


Warped Reality

by samsimpala



Series: The Messenger of God Saga [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 47
Words: 131,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsimpala/pseuds/samsimpala
Summary: Cas is dead, the Leviathans are roaming the Earth, and Sam's seeing Lucifer everywhere he turns. How are they going to cope with Castiel's death? What are they going to do about the Leviathans? More importantly, will they be able to fix Sam? All of the answers are in the sixth installment of The Messenger of God Saga, Warped Reality! Revision of Season 7. Sam/OC.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Messenger of God Saga [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888270
Kudos: 6





	1. Meet the New Boss Part 1

Bobby, Dean, Angela, and Sam looked at Castiel with fear evident in their eyes. Bobby swallowed nervously.

"Well, alright then," Bobby started as he knelt down. "Is this good, or do you want the whole 'forehead to the carpet' thing?" He asked. Bobby looked at the three younger hunters who were still standing. "Guys?"

Sam, Dean, and Angela started to kneel, but Castiel stopped them.

"Stop," Castiel commanded. "What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me. Not love, not respect, just fear."

"Cas…" Sam started.

"Sam, you have nothing to say to me; you stabbed in the back," Castiel responded. "Get up," he told Dean, Angela, and Bobby.

"Cas, come on, this isn't you," Dean replied.

"The Castiel you knew is gone," Castiel replied.

Dean's brows furrowed. "So, what, then? Kill us?"

Castiel smirked slightly. "What a brave little ant you are." He commented. "You know you're powerless, you wouldn't dare move against me again. That would be pointless. So, I have no need to kill you. Not now." He explained. "Besides…once you were my favorite pets before you turned and bit me."

"Who are you?" Dean asked quietly.

"I'm God," Castiel replied obviously. "And if you stay in your place, you may live in my kingdom. If you rise up, I will strike you down." He warned. Behind him, Sam was breathing heavily. "Not doing so well, are you, Sam?"

Angela immediately looked at Sam, worry evident on her face. "Sammy…"

"I'm fine…" Sam cleared his throat. "I'm…fine."

Angela looked at Castiel. "You said you would fix him! You _promised_ , Cas!"

"If you stood down, which you hardly did," Castiel replied. "Be thankful for my mercy. I could have cast you back into the pit." He warned Sam.

"Cas, _please,_ this is nuts!" Angela exclaimed. "You can turn this around, please!"

"I hope for your sake this is the last time you see me," Castiel replied before he disappeared.

Bobby, Dean, Angela, and Sam looked around at each other for a few seconds, until Sam's nose started to bleed.

Angela frowned in concern. "Sammy, are you okay?" she asked as she walked towards him.

Sam saw a vision of himself burning in Hell; he then fell to the ground and cut his hand on some broken glass. Angela rushed over and knelt down beside him. Dean watched the scene unfold and he swallowed nervously.

"Sammy!" She exclaimed. "Sam!"

~/~\~

Dean in the backseat of the Impala, lying on his back with his boots pressed against the roof.

"Come on," Dean grunted as he tried to push the dented roof out with his feet. "Come on, baby!"

Bobby walked outside with his hands in his pockets. "So, you fixin' her or primal screamin'?"

Dean got out of the Impala and took a beer out of a nearby cooler. "How's Sam?" Dean asked, ignoring Bobby's question.

"He's still under. But alive," Bobby replied. "Angie's with him now...hasn't left his side since we got back."

Dean sighed and took a sip of his beer. "What about God part Deux?"

"I got all kinds of feelers out, so far diddly." Bobby shrugged.

"And what exactly are you looking for?" Dean asked, his brows furrowing.

"Exactly. What? Miracles, mass visions, trench coat on a tortilla?" Bobby sighed. "I don't know what I'm lookin' for."

"Ah, well, he'll surface," Dean assured.

Bobby nodded. "So, say we do suss out where 'new and improved' flew off to…"

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"The hell we plan to do about it?" Bobby sighed.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, Bobby, I got no more clue than you do."

"I don't even know what books to hit for this, Dean," Bobby stressed.

"Well, figure it out!" Dean snapped, causing Bobby to raise his eyebrows. "I'm sorry." Dean sighed. "This ain't in no book. If you stick your neck out, Cas steps on it. So, you know what I'm gonna do?"

"What?" Bobby asked.

"I'm gonna fix this car," Dean pointed to the Impala. "Because that's what I can do. I can work on her 'til she's mint. And when Sam wakes up, no matter what shape he's in, we'll glue him back together too. We owe him that."

"I'm with you." Bobby agreed.

Dean lied back down in the Impala and began to pound on the roof with a mallet.

~/~\~

Angela was in Bobby's kitchen making sandwiches for everyone. Her back was turned to the living room and she hummed softly as she prepared the food. Sam suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Angie," Sam greeted, startling her.

Angela jumped slightly and turned around, a grin forming on her lips. "Sammy!" she exclaimed as she went over to him. She stood on her toes and pressed a firm, sweet kiss to his lips. "You're walking and talking."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I, uh, put on my socks, the whole nine."

"That's great," Angela nodded, hugging his waist. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. My head hurts a little, but…basically." Sam replied, wrapping his arms around Angela.

Angela's eyebrows raised slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, babe, I mean, I'm just as surprised as you are but, yeah, I swear," Sam assured.

"Good!" Angela smiled. "No reason putting a gift horse under a microscope, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "So, what happened with Cas?"

"Come on, Dean and I will fill you in," Angela replied, pulling away. "Plus, he'll be happy to see you're awake, and I made lunch." She added, kissing Sam on the cheek. She grabbed the plates and walked through the back door.

Sam started to follow Angela but hesitated as he heard the faint sound of chains jingling. He nervously looked around the room, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.

~/~\~

After the group had eaten lunch, Dean had asked Sam to help fix the Impala. Sam was currently in Bobby's basement looking through a drawer of tools. He frowned when he heard the faint jingling of chains again and ominous laughter. He didn't see anything and went back to his task, eventually finding the wrench he had been looking for. Sam turned around and was shocked to find the basement bathed in an eerie red light. Multiple chains hung from the ceiling, as well as meat hooks with bits of flesh and hair still attached.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" An evil voice laughed.

Sam swallowed nervously. "No, no, this can't be happening…"

"Sam!" Lucifer's voice called out.

"Hey, Sam!" Bobby called as he walked down the stairs. "What are you, taking a nap down here?"

Bobby frowned when he reached the end of the stairwell and saw a terrified Sam wielding the wrench like a weapon.

"It's Cas, we think…" Bobby continued. "Come on."

Sam lowered the wrench and nodded. "Y-yeah. Coming."

~/~\~

" _The sudden deaths of some 200 religious leaders are currently under investigation."_ The TV announcer said. _"The Vatican has yet to issue a statement, but some are already calling this an act of God."_

Dean, Bobby, Angela, and Sam stood as they watched the news. A woman who had been part of the congregation was being interviewed outside of the church.

" _We all saw him,"_ the woman on TV explained. _"No beard, no robe. He was young…and…and sexy! He has a raincoat…"_

Dean walked up and shut off the TV.

~/~\~

Dean was in the Impala, working on a window while listening to the radio announcer.

" _Believed to be target hits high up in the white-supremacy organizations,"_ the radio announcer said. _"The FBI now believes the Ku Klux Klan has been forced to disband."_

Dean blinked a few times. "Can't argue with that one…" he muttered.

~/~\~

It was nighttime at this point and Dean was still working on the Impala. Currently, he was working on the hood.

" _A freak lightning strike on the heels of the fire that burned down the Center for Vibrational Enlightenment earlier today."_ The radio announcer said. _"Said a spokesman, 'this tragedy represents the largest loss in New Age motivational speaker history'."_

Sam's brows furrowed. "Motivational speakers?"

Angela walked out with three beers and handed two of them to Sam and Dean. The brothers took the beers gratefully and Sam kissed Angela's cheek.

"Yeah, I'm not sure new Cas gets irony any better than old Cas," Dean replied as he took a sip of his beer. "Of course, old Cas wouldn't smite Madison Square Garden just to prove a point. He is off the deep end of the deep end. And there's no slowing down."

"So, what?" Sam sighed. "Try to talk to him again?"

"Sam," Angela warned as she took a sip of her beer.

"All we can do is talk to the guy," Sam argued.

"He's not a _guy_. He's God." Angela stressed.

"And he's pissed," Dean added. "And when God gets righteous, you get the hell out of the way; haven't you read the Bible?"

"I guess…" Sam muttered.

"Cas is never coming back," Angela replied. "He's lied to us, he used us, and he broke the wall in your head like it was nothing, Sam!"

"No more talking; we have spent enough time on him." Dean agreed.

"Okay." Sam conceded.

"Can one of you hand me that socket wrench?" Dean asked.

~/~\~

Sam was currently in Bobby's kitchen ready a book. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and was startled by a strange noise. He looked behind himself and the ceiling panel began to crack. A long chain fell down through the hole and wrapped itself around Sam's neck, dragging him to the ceiling. A laughing voice could be heard. Suddenly, Sam woke up in a sweat to realize he had been hallucinating.

"Dean…Angie…" Sam looked around. "Bobby?"

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Bobby were in the garage. Dean had the windows covered and was getting ready to paint the Impala.

"She's looking good… Considering." Bobby commented as he handed Dean and Angela two beers.

"Considering?" Dean raised a brow. "I should do this professionally."

Dean, Angela, and Bobby turned and opened their beers.

"So…" Bobby trailed off. "Seen Sam lately?"

"Yeah, why?" Angela asked as she took a sip of her beer.

Bobby hesitated to answer, and Angela frowned.

"What?" Angela pressed. "Well, spit it out."

Bobby sighed. "How is that kid even vertical? I mean, Cas broke his damn piñata."

"We know." Dean sighed as he turned back to the Impala.

"I mean, I get how he came to help us back at the lab." Bobby continued. "Adrenaline. Sure, but now?"

Dean began to tape the Impala's antenna. "Well…he says he's okay."

"How?" Bobby questioned.

"Don't know." Angela sighed. "I just pray to God it's true."

Bobby's face scrunched up. "We need to come up with a new saying for that."

Sam began to enter the garage but stopped when he overheard Dean, Angela, and Bobby's conversation.

"Seriously though, Bobby…" Angela sighed. "Look at our lives. How many more hits can we take? So, if Sam says he's good…good."

"And you both believe that?" Bobby asked.

Dean and Angela looked at each other for a moment.

"Yeah." Dean shrugged, hesitating for a moment. "No." he sighed. "You wanna know why? Because we _never_ catch a break. So, why would we this time?"

"I just…I just want this one thing," Angela murmured. "You know? But, Dean and I aren't stupid. We're not gonna get our hopes up just to get screwed over again."

Sam emerged from eavesdropping and startled the three other hunters. "Hey."

"Hey." Bobby greeted. "How are you feeling, sport?"

"Can't complain." Sam shrugged, walking over to Angela. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.

"Great." Dean nodded. "What's the word?"

"Well, a publishing house literally exploded about an hour ago," Sam replied. "The guy has a body count that's really getting up there…We gotta do something."

"What we've got to do is hunt the son of a bitch," Bobby muttered. "Unfortunately, I lost my God guns."

"Well, I mean is there some kind of heavenly weapon?" Sam asked. "Maybe something out of that angel arsenal that Balthazar stole? There has to be something that can hurt him."

"He's God, Sam," Dean replied. "There's nothing, but there might be _someone_."

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, Dean, and Bobby were in the basement. Sam sat on a stool and Angela stood behind him, combing her fingers through his hair. Bobby lit a match and threw it into a bowl where it erupted into a huge flame. There was a devil's trap scrawled on the floor.

Crowley appeared inside the devil's trap with a glass of whiskey in his hand. "No." he muttered, looking around. "No! No! Come on!"

"Don't act so surprised," Bobby replied.

"My new boss is going to kill me for even talking to you!" Crowley snapped.

"Well, you're lucky we're not stabbing you in your scuzzy face, you little piece of…" Dean started.

"Whoa, wait!" Sam interrupted. "What new boss?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Castiel, you giraffe."

"Cas is your boss?" Angela frowned.

"He's _everybody's_ boss," Crowley replied. "What do you think he's going to do if he finds out we've been conspiring? You do want to conspire, don't you?"

"No." Bobby sassed. "We want you to just stand there and look pretty."

"Listening," Crowley replied.

"We need a spell to bind Death," Dean interjected.

"Bind?" Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Enslave Death? You having a laugh?"

"Lucifer did it." Dean shrugged.

"That's Lucifer!"

"A spell's a spell." Angela shrugged.

"You really believe you can handle that kind of horsepower?" Crowley scoffed. "You're delusional!"

"Death is the only player on the board left that has the kind of juice to take Cas," Dean argued.

"They'll both mash us like peas," Crowley replied. "Why should I help with a suicide mission?"

"Look!" Bobby snapped. "Do you really want Cas running the universe?"

Crowley just looked down and poured himself another drink, giving them their answer.


	2. Meet the New Boss Part 2

Bobby was walking down the stairs while flipping through his mail. He looked down in time to see a piece of paper pass under the front door. He went and picked the paper up, glancing around to see who left it.

"Hello?" Bobby called out.

Bobby looked at the paper as he walked into his study and saw that it was the spell they had asked for. He looked at Sam, Dean, and Angela.

"It's from Crowley," Bobby said.

"Well, who feels like hog-tying Death tonight?" Dean asked as he took the paper from Bobby.

"Old age is over-rated anyhow." Bobby shrugged.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela sat next to each other on Bobby's couch while Bobby sat behind his desk, Dean standing next to him.

"Well, we've got most of this stuff, but we're going to have to make a run for a few things," Bobby noted.

"Like?" Dean asked.

"Like an act of God crystallized forever," Bobby replied dramatically.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think it means an actual crystal," Bobby replied. "See, lightning strikes sand at the right angle, it crystallizes into the perfect shape of itself."

"Lightning. Act of God." Sam nodded.

"Jinga," Bobby replied. "You got yourself a fulgurate and we're gonna need a biggie."

"And let me guess…rare." Dean sighed.

"I found records of an auction," Bobby replied. "Winning bidder lives about nine hours from here."

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Bobby walked to the side door of the house, shining their flashlights. Bobby started tinkering with the security system when suddenly a security guard walked up to them.

"Hey!" the security guard exclaimed, causing the three hunters to turn around.

"Excuse me," Dean said as he came up behind the guard. "You got any Grey Poupon?" he asked as he knocked the guard out.

Angela's brows furrowed. "Grey Poupon? Seriously?"

"It's what popped in my head." Dean shrugged.

~/~\~

Dean walked through a nicely decorated room, shining his flashlight. His flashlight landed on the fulgurate and he walked towards is. He put his hands on the glass that covered it when he heard a gun being cocked behind him. Dean turned around to see Dr. and Mrs. Weiss.

"Hi." Dean greeted. "Uh…I don't want to hurt you. Really."

Dr. Weiss scoffed. "I'm the one with the firearm, son."

"I get that…" Dean replied.

~/~\~

Dean had tied up and gagged Dr. and Mrs. Weiss, just as Sam, Angela, and Bobby walked in, frowning at the sight.

"Okay. Yeah, good." Dean muttered. "Hey, guys." He looked up at Sam, Angela, and Bobby. "Uh, so this Dr. and Mrs. Weiss."

"Hi." Sam waved. "Sorry."

"I found the God thingy," Dean commented.

"Well, let's light this candle." Bobby sighed, taking out the other ingredients.

The four hunters set up the altar and started mixing the ingredients. Dean set out a fast food bag and a drink to go with it before Bobby cut his arm to get blood for the spell.

"You're welcome," Dean muttered as he wrapped a bandana around his arm.

"Te nunc invoco, mortem." Bobby started, causing the room to shake. "Te in mea potestate defixi. Nunc et in aeternum!"

"Um…Hello?" Dean looked around. "Death?"

"You're joking." Death said suddenly, causing Dean to turn around.

"I'm sorry, Death," Dean said sincerely. "This isn't what it seems."

"Seems like you bound me." Death replied flatly.

"For good reason, okay?" Dean defended. "Just, uh, hear us out. Um… Fried pickle chip?" he offered. "They're the best in the state."

"That easy to soothe me, you think?" Death raised a brow. "This is about Sam's hallucinations, I assume."

Dean, Bobby, and Angela looked back at Sam, confused looks on their faces.

"Sammy?" Angela asked.

"Sorry, Sam." Death noted. "One wall per customer. Now, unbind me."

"We can't," Sam replied. "Y-yet."

"This isn't going to end well." Death sighed.

"We need you to kill God," Angela interjected.

Death's eyebrows raised. "Pardon?"

"Kill God," Bobby repeated. "You heard right. Your…Honor."

"What makes you think I can do that?" Death asked.

"You told me and Angie," Dean replied.

Death sighed deeply. "Why _should_ I?"

"Because…We said so, and we're the boss of you," Dean replied. "I mean…Respectfully."

"Amazing," Castiel said as he appeared.

Sam turned around with a frown on his face. "Cas."

"I didn't want to kill you, but now…" Castiel started.

"You can't kill us." Dean interrupted.

"You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean."

"Death is our bitch," Dean replied. "We ain't gonna die, even if God pulls the trigger."

"Annoying little protozoa, aren't they?" Death interjected. "God? You look awfully like a mutated angel to me." Death eyed Castiel. "Your vessel's melting. You're going to explode."

"No, I'm not," Castiel argued. "When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself."

"You think you can because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes?" Death asked. "But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in, too."

"Irrelevant. I control them." Castiel replied.

"For the moment." Death noted.

"Wait—uh, what older things?" Dean cut in.

"Long before God created Angel and man, he made the first beasts, the Leviathans." Death explained.

"Leviathans?" Dean asked.

"I personally found them entertaining, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away." Death replied. "Why do you think he created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home."

"Enough," Castiel commanded.

"Stupid little soldier you are." Death told Castiel.

"Why?" he challenged. "Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place."

"Service? Settling petty vendettas?" Death raised a brow.

"No. I'm cleaning up one mess after another, selflessly," Castiel responded.

"Quite the humanitarian." Death muttered.

"And how would you know? What are you, really? A flyswatter?" Castiel glared.

"Destined to swat you, I think." Death replied.

"Unless I take you first." Castiel challenged.

"Really bought his own press, this one." Death sighed. "Please, Cas. I know God, and you, sir, are no God."

"Alright, put your junk away, both of you!" Dean snapped. "Look, call him what you want. Just kill him now!"

"Alright. Fine." Death replied as Castiel snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the binding was gone. "Thank you. Shall we kickbox now? I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon." He added as he sat down. "Don't worry—not you." He told Dean. Death looked up when Castiel disappeared. "Well, he was in a hurry…"

~/~\~

Death took a long sip of his drink and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Um…" Dean started.

"Shut up, Dean." Death cut him off. "I'm not here to tie your shoes every time you trip. I warned you about those souls how long ago? Long enough to stop that fool. And here we are again, with your little planet on the edge of immolation."

"Well, I'm sorry. Alright?" Dean replied. "I've been trying to save this planet, so maybe you should find somebody better to tip-off."

"Maybe I should spend my effort on a better planet." Death muttered. "Well, it's been amusing." He added as he stood up.

"Wait, h-hold on, hold on." Sam stopped him. "Just—can you give us something? You—you have to care a little bit about what happens to us."

"You know, I really don't." Death sighed. "But, I do find that little angel arrogant."

"Great!" Dean nodded. "Let's go with that."

"Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly."

"We need a door." Angela frowned.

"You have everything you need at that lab." Death replied. "Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power."

"Compel?" Dean scoffed.

"Figure it out."

"But that door only opens in the eclipse, and that's over," Bobby recalled.

"I'll make another. 3:59, Sunday morning, just before dawn. Be punctual." Death instructed. "Don't thank me. Clean up your mess." He stopped Dean. "Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start. Nice pickle chips, by the way."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked hand in hand into Bobby's kitchen to see Dean drinking a glass of whiskey.

"You want some coffee with that?" Sam asked.

"It's 6:00 pm somewhere." Dean shrugged.

"We got to hit the road," Sam replied. "I mean, how are we supposed to get Cas to that lab by friggin' 3:59 am?"

"We don't." Dean sighed.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we can't bring the horse to water, and we can't make it drink," Dean replied. "Why fool ourselves?"

"Dean, look, I know you think that Cas is gone—

"It's 'cause he is." Dean cut Sam off.

"He's not!" Sam assured. "He's in there somewhere, Dean. I know it."

"No, you don't." Dean challenged.

Sam sighed. "No, I don't," he admitted. "But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself, and you and Angie never gave up."

Angela pursed her lips. "That's not the best example, Sammy." She sighed. "I mean, hallucinations? Really? We had to find out from Death?"

Sam looked down at her and sighed. "What was I supposed to do?"

"How about not lie?" Angela responded. "Sammy, you gotta be honest with us. If you're going through something, we wanna know."

"Why? You can't help." Sam retorted. "Plus, you guys got a lot of pretty severe crap swinging your way lately, and—and I thought—what? I thought why burst the one god bubble you guys had left? It's under control."

"What? What, exactly, is under control?" Dean asked.

"I know what's real and what's not," Sam assured.

"Sam—

"Dean, look, we can debate this once we deal with Cas," Sam interjected.

"Yeah, you know how I'm gonna deal?" Dean replied. "I'm gonna stuff my pie hole, I'm gonna drink, and I'm gonna watch some Asian cartoon porn and act like the world's about to explode because it is." He added. He frowned at the computer. "You got to be kidding me. 'Massacre at the campaign office of an incumbent Senator by a trench-coated man'." Dean read. "There's security footage."

The three hunters watched the footage of Castiel and frowned.

"Well, I think reaching Cas is, uh…out of the cards." Angela sighed.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were outside clutching each other's hands.

"Hey, Castiel." Sam prayed. "Um…Maybe this is pointless. Look…I don't know if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you're one of us, deep down. I mean, way, way, way off the reservation, but…Look, we still have till dawn to stop this. Let us help. Please."

The couple looked around and Sam sighed when nothing happened. Angela squeezed his hand gently.

"Let's go back inside, Sammy," Angela said softly.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked back into the kitchen where Dean was still sat. Cartoon noises were coming from his laptop speakers and Sam and Angela cringed. Dean poured two drinks and slid them across the table.

"Only if you turn that off…" Sam said.

Dean shut the computer and looked up at Sam and Angela. Sam sat down on the chair across from Dean and pulled Angela to sit on his lap. Angela rested her head on Sam's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"Sam?" Castiel asked suddenly, leaning against the doorframe. He was covered in blood.

"Cas…" Sam's brows furrowed.

"I heard your call." Castiel groaned. "I need help."

~/~\~

They were all in Crowley's old lab. Castiel was leaning against a set of filing cabinets, Sam kneeling in front of him.

"We need the right blood." Castiel breathed. "There's a small jar—end of the hall, s-supply closet."

"Got it." Sam nodded as he got up and left to get the blood.

Castiel looked over at Dean and Angela. "Dean? Angela?"

"What, you need something else?" Dean asked.

"No." Castiel shook his head. "I feel regret, about you and Angela. And what I did to Sam."

Angela looked over at Castiel. "Yeah, well, you should." She replied. "He's having hallucinations, Cas…about God knows what."

"If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd—I'd fix him now," Castiel assured. "I just wanted to make amends before I die."

"I know, Cas." Angela nodded.

Castiel paused. "Is it working?"

"Does it make you feel better?" Angela asked softly.

"No…" Castiel sighed. "You?"

Angela pursed her lips and shook her head. "No. But thanks for trying, Cas."

~/~\~

Sam grabbed the jar of blood off of the shelf and turned to leave the room. When turned around he jumped when he saw Lucifer in front of him. Sam started breathing heavily.

"I know. It all seems so silly, doesn't it?" Lucifer smirked. "Hi, Sam. Long time, no spooning."

"You're not here." Sam breathed. "You're in Hell."

"Now, that you're right on." Lucifer nodded.

Sam swallowed nervously. "Meathooks…Chains…You. It's not real. It's just my brain leaking memories from the Cage 'cause of the wall breaking down. That's all."

"Hmm…" Lucifer hummed. "That's very good, you're little theory. It's wrong. Sam, this isn't you going guano. Everything else is."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Everything…From the second you sprung out of that lockbox," Lucifer smirked.

Sam shook his head. "That's impossible."

"No. Escaping was impossible," Lucifer replied. "I have to say, I think this is my best torture yet—make you believe that you're free and then…Yank the wool off of your eyes. You never left, Sam." He taunted. "You're still in the Cage…With me."

~/~\~

Bobby touched Castiel's shoulder gently. "Hang in there. Just a couple of minutes." He assured. "Where's Sam?" he asked Dean. "It's go time."

Angela frowned in concern from her spot next to Castiel. She could feel it, something was wrong with Sam.

"Dean, can you go check on him?" Angela asked.

Dean nodded and took off down the hallway that Sam went through.

~/~\~

Dean frowned when he saw the upright in the middle of the hall. "Sam?!" he yelled as he picked up the jar. "Dammit…" he muttered before he went back to the main room.

~/~\~

Dean drew the sigil on the wall and Bobby looked at his phone.

"That's good enough," Bobby said as he and Angela helped get Castiel up. "Okay, step right up, Cas."

Angela went and grabbed the paper from Dean. "Ianua magna purgatorii, clausa est ob nos lumine eius ab oculis nostris retentor sed nunch stamus ad limes huius magnae et demise perhonorifice aperire eam." She chanted.

Suddenly Castiel fell to the floor and Dean rushed over to help him. The sigil started glowing and Castiel turned to look at the three hunters.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said sincerely.

"Creaturaer terrificae quarum ungulae et dentes nunquam tetigerunt carnem eius ad mundum nostrum nun iauna magna, aperta tandem!" Angela finished.

A hole started to appear in the wall and light started flowing out of Castiel. When the light was gone, Castiel fell to the floor.

"Cas?!" Dean exclaimed, rushing over to him.

~/~\~

Bobby checked Castiel's pulse and shook his head. "He's cold."

"Is he breathing?" Angela asked.

"No."

"Maybe angels don't need to breathe," Dean said hopefully.

"He's gone, Dean," Bobby replied gently.

Dean closed his eyes and stood up. "Dammit. Cas, you child. Why didn't you listen?"

Suddenly, Castiel's eyes flew open and his wounds were healed.

"Cas?!" Angela exclaimed. "Hey! Hey! Okay. Alright." She murmured as she helped him up.

"That was unpleasant," Castiel muttered.

"Easy there, Cas," Dean said as he helped Angela get him up.

"I'm alive." Castiel's brows furrowed.

"Looks like." Bobby smiled slightly.

"I'm astonished," Castiel muttered. He looked up at Bobby, Angela, and Dean. "Thank you."

"We were mostly…just trying to save the world," Bobby replied.

Castiel looked at the floor guiltily. "I'm ashamed. I really overreached."

"You think?" Dean scoffed.

Castiel looked up at the hunters. "I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you."

"Alright, well, one thing at a time." Dean nodded. "Come on. Let's get you out of here. Come on."

"I mean it," Castiel stressed.

"Okay," Angela assured. "Alright. But, l-let's go find Sam, okay?"

Castiel suddenly shoved the three hunters away from him and doubled over. "You need to run now! I-I can't hold them back!"

"Hold who back?" Angela frowned.

"They held on inside me." Castiel groaned. "They're so strong!"

"Who the hell-?" Dean started

"Leviathan!" Castiel yelled. "I can't fight them. Run!"

Dean looked at Angela and Bobby. "Go! Go get Sam! Go get Sam!"

Bobby and Angela started running towards the hallway but stopped when Castiel's demeanor shifted.

"Too late." The Leviathan smirked. The Leviathan threw Dean against the wall, then Angela and Bobby.

"Cas?" Angela groaned.

"Cas is—he's gone." The Leviathan smirked evilly. "He's dead. We run the show now. Ah. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"


	3. Hello, Cruel World Part 1

Dean leaned against the table he had been thrown against. "Bobby? Angie?"

Bobby and Angela sat up, grunting in pain. There was blood dripping from a cut on Angela's forehead.

"How many of you are in there?" Angela asked. "A hundred? More?"

Leviathan-Castiel started to drip black fluid. Dean's brows furrowed slightly.

"Your vessel's gonna explode, ain't it?" Dean asked. "Wouldn't do anything too strenuous. In fact, I'd call it a day, head on home, huh?"

There was now black fluid leaking from Leviathan-Castiel's eye. "We'll be back. For you." He warned as he stumbled out of the room.

"Well, this is a new one…" Bobby muttered.

~/~\~

Sam's hallucination of Lucifer was holding him against a wall with a hand around his neck.

"You're not real." Sam choked out.

"Right. You think this fruit-bat fever dream is reality?" Lucifer raised a brow. "You come back, I'm sorry, with no soul like some peppy American Psycho, till Saint Dean and Angela glue you back together again by buying you some magic amnesia. You're real. I'm _very_ real. Everything between is what we call set dressing."

"No." Sam shook his head.

"You're still in my cell," Lucifer smirked. "You're my bunkmate, buddy. You're my little bitch, in every sense of the term. Sam. Sammy."

"Sammy!" Angela shook him gently. "You hearing me?"

Sam jumped slightly and looked at Angela, Dean, and Bobby. He was breathing heavily, and he looked around the room frantically.

"Whoa. Look at us." Dean said gently. "Hey. Alright, we got to button this up. Come on, let's get out of here. Come on."

~/~\~

Leviathan-Castiel walked into a water reservoir as Sam, Dean, Angela, and Bobby followed behind. They watched as Leviathan-Castiel went under, a whirlpool appearing. Black liquid radiated from the whirlpool then disappeared.

"Aw, hell." Bobby muttered when he noticed a sign saying ' _Public Water Supply. No Swimming. No Fishing. No Boating'_.

~/~\~

"Dammit," Dean muttered.

"You said it," Bobby replied. "Those…Whatever you call 'ems…"

"Leviathans." Sam and Angela noted.

"Right." Bobby sighed. "If they're in the pipes, they got themselves a highway to anywhere."

"Awesome." Dean scoffed. He picked up Castiel's trench coat, which had floated to the edge of the reservoir. "Okay. So, he's gone."

"Yeah. Rest in peace." Bobby sighed. "If that's in the cards."

Dean folded the trench coat and looked down at it sadly. "Dumb son of a bitch."

"Well, he was friends with us, wasn't he?" Bobby replied. "Can't get much dumber than that. Come on, those things will be coming up for air soon."

~/~\~

Sam was asleep on Bobby's couch. Lucifer stood in front of him with a smirk on his face.

"Hey." Lucifer murmured. "Wake up, sunshine. Up and at 'em, atom man."

"Sammy," Angela said softly, touching Sam on the chest. "Sammy, hey—

Sam jumped slightly and looked up at Angela with wide, frantic eyes.

"Whoa," Angela said gently. "That's 12 hours straight…"

"I'm calling that rested," Dean added, walking into the room. "Here." He handed Sam a bottle of water and a power bar. "Hydrate, and uh, protein-ate."

Sam took the water and power bar gratefully. "Breakfast in bed."

"Don't get used to it," Dean replied.

Angela pulled up a chair and sat down. "Here. Let me see your hand."

"Oh, she wants to hold your widdle hand." Lucifer cooed. "How sweet."

Angela gently removed Sam's bandage and inspected his stitches. "You'll live." Angela murmured. "Here," she added, pouring whiskey over Sam's wound. Sam sucked in a breath with pain. "Alright, take it easy, baby," Angela said softly, gently kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

"So, ooze invasion," Sam said suddenly. "Any leads?"

"I got all my feelers out." Bobby shrugged as Angela got up and he took her place in the chair. "Whatever they're up to, it ain't—ain't about going Mothra down Main street. They'll turn up. You seem pretty eager to stretch your legs, you know." He added as he put a new bandage on Sam's hand.

"Mmm." Sam hummed.

"Now onto our other big problem." Dean sighed. "How're you doin'? And _do not_ say okay."

"I'm not okay," Sam admitted.

"You think?" Dean scoffed.

"Hey," Bobby said gently. "Go a little easy."

"There's nothing easy about it, Bobby, okay," Dean replied. "We acted like he had everything under control!"

"I get it. I'm sorry." Sam said sincerely. "Look, I-I didn't exactly want to crack up, you know?"

"What the hell happened back there, Sammy?" Angela asked.

Sam pursed his lips. "Well, it's not just flashbacks anymore."

"Well, then what?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "It means I'm having a difficult time figuring out what's real."

"Hallucinations." Angela clarified.

"For starters." Sam nodded.

"Well for starters, if you're tripping Hell's Bells, why would you hide that?" Dean asked.

"I wasn't hiding it, Dean, I-I was just not talking about it." Sam shrugged. "I mean it seemed like you three had enough going on as it was. Look, I—I just figured, try to hold onto the safety bar and ride it out, you know? But it's getting more specific."

"As in specifically what?" Dean pressed.

~/~\~

Dean got glasses of whiskey for himself, Angela, and Bobby. "What the hell, Sam?" he asked.

"I told you," Sam muttered.

"I mean, seriously, how do you, how do you argue with that?" Dean asked.

"I know." Sam agreed. "It's a problem."

"Wait, why would Lucifer give you a whole new life when he could just kick your ass all over the Cage?" Angela asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"'Cause, as he puts it…" Sam started.

"You can't torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away." Lucifer and Sam said in unison.

"Very good, Sam," Lucifer smirked.

"Okay, fine." Dean sighed. "But this Malibu dream mansion that he, he, he makes for you to take away is this post-apocalyptic mess?"

"It had to be a mess, Sam, or you wouldn't believe it was your life." Lucifer shrugged.

Sam was looking at the space where he was seeing Lucifer. Angela's brows furrowed, and she too looked at the space, but it was empty.

"Wait." Angela cut in. "Sammy, are you seeing him right now?"

Sam just nodded.

"You know that he's not real," Angela said gently. "Right?"

Sam looked up at Angela, tears in his eyes. "He says the same thing about you."

Bobby sighed deeply. "I'm going back to work."

~/~\~

Sam was taking apart his gun and Angela sat next to him flipping through a book. Bobby was using the computer in the kitchen and Dean was leaning over Bobby's chair.

"Well, at least he's not curled up under the sink," Bobby said, looking at Sam.

"Yeah, no, he's just sitting there silently field-stripping his weapon," Dean muttered. He took Sam's phone out of his jacket, which was hanging over a kitchen chair.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked.

"Turning on his GPS, in case he decides to fly the cuckoo's nest," Dean answered.

"And you? How are you doing?" Bobby asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously Bobby, it ain't like he's hexed, you know? I mean, what if it's the kind of crazy you can't fix?"

"Yeah, I'm—I'm worried too, but humor me for a second," Bobby replied. "How are you?"

"Who cares?" Dean retorted. "Don't you think our mailbox is a little full right now? I'm fine."

"Right." Bobby nodded. "And weren't you and Angie pissed at him when he said the same thing just a couple of hours before he spilled his marbles all over the floor?"

"Yeah, well," Dean started as he poured himself some coffee. "I'm not Sam, okay? I keep my marbles in a lead friggin' box. I'm fine. Really."

"Of course." Bobby nodded. "Yeah. You and Angie just lost one of the best friends you ever had, Sam's in the bell jar, and Purgatory's most wanted are surfing the sewer lines, but yeah, yeah, I get it. You're—you're fine."

"Good." Dean forced a smile.

"Course, if at any time you want to decide that's utter horse crap, well I'll be where I always am," Bobby added. "Right here."

"What, you want to do couples' yoga, or you want to get back to hunting the big bads?" Dean asked.

"Shut up." Bobby retorted. "Idjit."

~/~\~

Dean entered the house carrying groceries.

"Hey there Gunga Din, buck up." Bobby greeted.

"So, it looks like we got some bad news for a change." Angela sighed. "Stockville North Kansas, most of a high school swim team got mangled to death in their locker room."

"Cop talk on the wire's kind of garbled, saying it looks like some kind of wild animal attack," Bobby added. "They're saying that whatever attacked them's about the size of a linebacker."

"It's a lead." Sam shrugged.

"Alright, but if you think you're going out on a hunt…" Dean started.

"No, I know. I'm not. But, you and Angie are." Sam replied. "Look, Bobby's running the hub, I'm—I'm 5150'd, which leaves you and Angie to follow this thing up."

"Sam, I don't feel comfortable leaving you here…" Angela sighed.

"She's right. You're in the middle of a psychotic break." Dean agreed.

"It's a couple hours' drive, guys, and it could be a Leviathan thing," Sam argued.

Dean shook his head. "Nah, if you think we're leaving you here alone…"

"Hey," Bobby started. "What am I, chopped brains on toast? I can eyeball the kid. Go. Work off some of these nerves on something useful."

Angela and Dean looked at each other and then at Sam.

"Fine," Dean muttered.

"Love you." Angela murmured, kissing Sam softly.

"Love you, too." Sam smiled softly at her. "Be safe, okay?"

"Always am." she smiled and winked.

~/~\~

Dean was driving the Impala and Angela sat in the passenger's seat.

Dean glanced over at Angela. "So, uh…how're you doing?"

Angela raised a brow and looked at Dean. "Oh, so, we're doing this right now?"

Dean's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"The 'are you okay?' conversation," Angela replied with a sigh. "I'm _fine_."

"Yeah, and I said the same thing to Bobby." Dean scoffed.

"Well, I'm fine," Angela repeated. "I have to be. Sam needs a support system and I'm gonna be just that."

Dean sighed deeply. "Kid, you don't have to pretend that you're okay…"

"You're one to talk!" Angela exclaimed. "All you do is pretend that you're fine when you're not. Look, fake it till you make it, right?"

Dean pursed his lips, unable to argue. "Well, if you do want to talk at some point…I'm here."

Angela looked up at Dean and smiled a small smile. "Thanks. Same goes for you, okay?"

~/~\~

A forensics officer was examining the blood-splattered wall of the locker room.

"Special Agents Anderson and Scott," Dean greeted as he and Angela flashed their badges. He looked over at the forensics officer. "Ian."

"Yeah, okay." The officer nodded. "Our point cop's out on the donut. Forensics," he indicated himself. "I can show you the layout. And step lightly. We got a whole bunch of NC17 shiznickel right over there."

"Right," Dean nodded.

Angela looked over at the wall and saw black ooze. She nudged Dean and he sighed.

"Dammit…" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Sam walked into the kitchen as his phone rang. He picked it up and glanced over at the chair where he saw Lucifer reading a newspaper.

"Yeah," Sam greeted.

 _"Well, we are positive for ick,"_ Dean's voice rang through. _"Same kind of stuff that came out of Cas, and, uh, two of the swim kids were missing—they stole one of their parents' cars."_

"You know, I really think Prince William has found the right girl." Lucifer smiled. "What do you think?" he asked as he folded up the newspaper.

Sam tried his best to ignore Lucifer. "So, you think these, um, these Leviathan things just jump into people? Like Eve did?"

 _"I don't know,"_ Angela's voice came through the speaker. _"It makes sense, right? Anyway, uh, state trooper's got surveillance cam on the kids about six hours old, of them gassing up just south of Dakota line, so we're headed back your way. We'll just track them from Bobby's."_

"Yeah, sounds good," Sam replied.

 _"Hey! How're you doing?"_ Dean asked.

Sam turned and looked at Lucifer. "You know, uh, okay."

 _"Okay. Well, hang in there, alright babe?"_ Angela replied.

Sam hung up and sighed deeply.

"Just okay?" Lucifer asked as he stabbed a knife into the table. "Man, I'm having a great day!"


	4. Hello, Cruel World Part 2

Lucifer was swinging a fire poker as if it were a golf club.

"Okay, if this is some dream and you got power over it, why don't you just end it?" Sam questioned.

"End it? This?" Lucifer's eyebrows raised. "You not knowing what's real, the paint slowly peeling off your walls, come on, man, this is the sweet spot! Why would I end it? Not like we got HBO in the Pit." He shrugged. "All I got is you, floating over the coals with half a hope that you're gonna figure it all out. There's only one way to figure it out, Sam. It's up to you. It ends when you can't take it anymore."

Sam just shook his head. Lucifer looked at Sam's guns on the table.

"I think that's maybe why we're cleaning our guns," Lucifer added.

"Shut up," Sam muttered. "I said shut up!"

Bobby walked in on Sam shouting at nothing. "Hey, Sam," he greeted. "You, uh, having a little bag lady moment?"

Sam turned to face Bobby, looking slightly ashamed. "Sorry."

Bobby grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to Sam.

"Thanks," Sam said as he took a sip. "You know, after…everything. All these years, all that we've been through…"

"You beat the Devil before, kid," Bobby replied.

"It's kinda different." Sam sighed.

"Not really," Bobby assured. "You'll get a handle on this too. You will."

Sam frowned when he saw Lucifer standing behind Bobby, holding the fire poker.

"You're not in Hell anymore." Bobby continued. "You're here, with us."

Sam saw Lucifer stab Bobby with the fire poker and flinched.

"You hear me, Sam?" Bobby asked.

Sam swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yeah, I hear you, Bobby."

Suddenly, Bobby's phone started ringing. Bobby frowned slightly.

"Oh. That's my local." He muttered. "Hello?" he answered.

 _"Bobby Singer?"_ Jody's voice rang through. _"My surgeon is a monster."_

Bobby's brows furrowed. "Come again?"

 _"He took my windbag roomie and ate her liver!"_ Jody replied. _"Except he wasn't, he was no surgeon…Listen. His face, his mouth was this horrible—_

"Who is this?" Bobby cut her off.

_"It's Jody. Jody Mills!"_

"Jody?" Bobby asked.

 _"Sheriff Mills!"_ she stressed.

"Gotcha," Bobby replied.

 _"I can't exactly call a Deputy here,"_ Jody replied. _"You and I killed zombies that one time—I know you handle this kind of thing. Please, get your ass here to Sioux Falls General before he eats me, Singer."_ She added before the line went dead.

Bobby sighed. "Well, either Sheriff Mills is having an ObamaCare-insured opium dream, or something's eating folks down at Sioux Falls General Hospital," Bobby said as he grabbed his jacket. "Look, I don't want to bruise your ego or anything, but…"

"No, no, no, it's okay," Sam assured. "Go, go, go. I'll—I'll watch the phones."

Bobby left, and Sam saw Lucifer cleaning the fire poker.

"So, just you and me, huh?" Lucifer smirked.

~/~\~

Sam was assembling his gun again and using a stopwatch to time himself. He finished and stopped the timer, frowning in displeasure when he looked at the time. He heard a car pull up and walked towards the door with an open can of beer in his hand. Dean and Angela entered.

"Dean. Angie." Sam greeted.

"Hey," Dean greeted, grabbing the can from Sam's hand. "Oh, yeah. Good thinking."

"Uh…" Sam trailed off, confused.

"Hey, baby." Angela smiled softly, standing on her toes so she could kiss him.

Dean took a drink from the can. "So, we, uh, we followed those swim kid Levia-whatever…"

Sam wrapped his arm around Angela's waist and his brows furrowed. "To where?"

"Here," Angela replied. "Well, back to town, and that isn't the good news."

"What?" Sam asked.

"It ain't just two of them…" Dean sighed.

"Did you call Bobby?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, he's working his own case." Angela sighed.

"We gotta move and we need back-up, and that means you." Dean pointed at Sam.

"Wait," Sam frowned. "You sure about that?"

"I know, you're bonkers," Dean replied. "But, luckily we just need you to keep the engine running and wait by the back door. Just don't, uh, don't let Satan change my presets. Let's go."

Dean walked out the door and Angela quickly followed suit. Sam grabbed his gun and jacket before following them.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were riding in the Impala.

"How you doing, Sam?" Dean asked suddenly. "In the head region. Devil still riding shotgun?"

"Not right now, but…yeah," Sam replied.

Dean nodded. "Maybe we ought to get you, I don't know…"

"Some—some what? Some…professional help?" Sam scoffed. "What are they gonna do, Dean, just stuff me full of pills. We'll figure out some other option."

"Okay, yeah." Dean nodded. "But what are your other options? You remember when Martin took his nose-dive and started shooting at nothing? I mean his sweater unraveled fast."

"I'm not Martin," Sam assured.

"No, but you are crazy," Angela commented from the backseat, causing Sam to frown in confusion. "That doesn't wash off…You get that, right?" she added. "You are _never_ going to be okay, Sam…"

Sam's frown deepened, and he looked at his shoes.

~/~\~

The Impala, containing only Dean and Angela, pulled up in front of the Bobby's. They got out of the car and walked into the house.

Angela frowned as they looked for Sam. "Sam? Sammy?"

"Sam?" Dean called.

Dean and Angela looked at each other, concern etched on their faces.

"Crap…" Dean sighed.

~/~\~

The Impala, containing Hallucination Dean, Hallucination Angela, and Sam, pulled up outside of what appeared to be an office building. Five people were visible through the glass windows. The three got out of the Impala.

"Oh, dammit," Hallucination Dean sighed. "There's five of 'em. Alright, come on."

"Are you sure?" Sam frowned.

"Yeah, and listen, Sam, when we get in there, you gotta keep it together." Hallucination Angela replied.

Sam frowned when he saw that he was holding the keys. "Yeah, yeah, I—I will, I—

"Because if you're seeing Lucifer, then you could be seeing all kinds of crap, okay?" Hallucination Dean interrupted. "You just don't know."

"How is this helping?" Sam asked as they walked towards the building.

"We're just saying, Sam, you're out of control…" Hallucination Angela sighed.

"I-I'm dealing with it the best I can," Sam replied.

"Dealing?" Hallucination Dean laughed. "Sorry, that's just funny, I mean how can you deal? You think this is an office building, right?"

Hallucination Dean held the door open for Hallucination Angela and Sam. They entered the building, the door shutting behind them.

~/~\~

"Sorry," Hallucination Angela added. "Wrong."

Sam frowned and looked around the warehouse. "Where the hell are we?"

"Oh, you think I'm Dean! And that Angie's really here!" Hallucination Dean laughed. "Right." He added as he morphed into Lucifer. He snapped his fingers and Hallucination Angela was gone. "You poor, clueless son of a bitch."

Sam stumbled backward. "Stay the hell away from me." He said as he turned around.

"Your world is whatever I want it to be, understand?" Lucifer taunted.

Sam turned and shot at nothing. "Leave me alone!"

Lucifer appeared behind Sam. "Now we're getting there. Pinocchio's seeing his strings."

"Shut up," Sam demanded.

"It's the big crescendo." Lucifer continued.

"I said shut up!" Sam roared as he fired his gun.

Lucifer appeared behind him again. "Want to point that gun at someone useful?" he asked. "Try your face," he said as he walked closer to Sam. "Want to know the truth? Want to skip to the last page of the book? You know where to aim," he continued, holding a finger against the underside of his jaw. "Cowboy." He smirked, making a sound to imply pulling the trigger.

~/~\~

Angela looked at the GPS on Dean's phone. "Dean, this can't be good…" Angela trailed off as they pulled up near a black van.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Dean muttered as they got out of the car.

~/~\~

Sam and Lucifer were standing close together as Dean and Angela entered the warehouse.

"Sam?" Dean asked. "Sam!"

"Oh look." Hallucination Dean smirked. "Another me. And who knows if that's the real Angie."

"Sam, what are you doing?" Angela asked.

Sam pointed his gun at Dean and Angela, who held up their hands.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean exclaimed.

"I was with you guys!" Sam yelled.

"Okay," Angela started gently. "Well, here we are, Sammy."

Sam shook his head. "No. No, I don't, I…" He looked over at Lucifer, then back at Angela and Dean. "I can't know that for sure. You understand me?"

Angela nodded. "Okay, now we're gonna have to start small."

Sam looked at the ground in confusion. "I don't remember driving here…"

"Well, that's because I drove. You thought." Lucifer replied. "Sam is very suggestible." He said to Angela and Dean.

Sam shot at what he thought was Lucifer.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean snapped. "Sam! This discussion does not require a weapon's discharge!"

Sam was breathing heavily and he reluctantly lowered his weapon.

"Look at me," Dean started. "Come on. You don't know what's real? Look, man, I've been to Hell. Okay, I know a thing or two about torture. Enough to know that it feels different, then the pain of this—this regular, stupid, crappy this."

"No, no." Sam shook his head. "How can you know that for sure?"

"Sammy, let me see your hand," Angela said gently as she reached out for his hand. Sam lifted his right hand and she shook her head. "No, no, your left hand, baby."

"Smell you, Florence Nightingale," Lucifer smirked.

Sam looked around at Lucifer. Angela grabbed Sam's bandaged left hand.

"Hey," Angela shook his hand. "This is real. Not a year ago, not in Hell, now. Dean and I were with you when you cut it, and Dean sewed it up! Look!"

Angela squeezed Sam's left hand and grabbed the barrel of the gun that Sam was holding in his right hand. Lucifer appeared next to Angela and flickered.

"We've done a lot more with pain," Lucifer said.

Sam took an indrawn breath and winced.

"This is different," Angela stressed. "Right? I'm different, Dean's different! Right?"

Sam took his hand away and Angela handed Sam's gun to Dean.

"Yeah, I think so." Sam breathed.

"You sure about that, bunk buddy?" Lucifer taunted.

Sam was looking at Lucifer who stood next to Angela.

"Sam?" Angela asked. "Sam."

Sam pushed his right thumb against his wound, which bled through the bandage. Lucifer started to flicker again.

"Doesn't mean anything," Lucifer assured.

"Hey," Dean walked up to Sam. "Angie's your girlfriend and I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay? We're the only ones who can legitimately kick your ass in real time."

"You got away," Angela assured. "We got you out, Sammy."

"Sammy. Sammy." Lucifer repeated.

Sam continued to push his thumb against his wound, groaning in pain.

"Sammy, I'm the only one who can…" Lucifer trailed off as he disappeared.

"Believe in that!" Angela pleaded with tears in her eyes. "Believe us, okay? You gotta believe us. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded and hugged Angela tightly, almost to make sure that she wouldn't disappear. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He murmured.

Angela hugged Sam back and combed her fingers through his hair. "It's okay, Sammy. I got you." She murmured. Angela glanced at Dean, concern evident on her face.

Suddenly Sam's phone rang, and he pulled away to answer it. "Bobby, hey."

 _"The Sheriff was right,"_ Bobby's voice rang through. _"The hospital thing's definitely our kind of thing. I double-barreled one of them in the morgue. Silver buckshot—no effect. Bled black ooze."_

"Leviathan here?" Sam frowned.

 _"I'm falling back,"_ Bobby replied. _"I'll meet you at the house. We can regroup."_

Sam hung up and looked at Dean and Angela. "Bobby's got a live one."

Dean nodded. "Okay, well let's go."

Sam nodded and held Angela's hand. Dean exited the warehouse and the couple followed.

~/~\~

Dean was driving the Impala and Sam sat in the backseat with Angela. Sam had Angela curled to his side tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Look, when we get back to Bobby's—

"It's okay, Dean, I'm good." Sam interrupted. "No white rabbits. I'm not seeing anything."

Angela pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek. "Baby steps."

Dean gave Sam a small smile and Sam gave him one in return. Dean frowned when the pulled up to Bobby's house. "Oh no."

The house had been burned down by a fire. It was charred and falling apart at this point.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela got out of the car and stood to look at the house.

"Oh no," Dean repeated.

~/~\~

Dean walked out of the remains of the house. Sam and Angela jogged up to him.

"Any sign of him?" Sam asked.

Dean held up a blackened journal and tossed it behind him. They started walking through the workshop.

"That place was torched." Dean sighed. "Somebody knew what they were doing."

"You think Bobby was back there?" Angela asked.

"I don't know." Dean sighed. He held up a hand to indicate that Sam and Angela search for Bobby to their right.

"Bobby!" Sam called as he and Angela left.

Dean took out his phone and made a call.

" _This is Bobby Singer's direct hotline. You should not have this number."_

"You cannot be in that crater back there." Dean started leaving a message. "I can't…If you're gone, I swear, I am going to strap Angie and my _Beautiful Mind_ brother into the car and I'm gonna drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing? Well, not good! Now you said you'd be here. Where are you?"

Dean hung up and looked around.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were walking through the junkyard.

"Bobby?" Angela called. "Bobby!"

"Bobby!" Sam yelled.

Sam and Angela turned a corner and saw Edgar.

"Congratulations," Edgar smirked. "Apparently you three are competent enough to warrant annihilating. I'd take that as a compliment."

Sam walked towards Edgar and pulled out his gun, shooting him, but nothing happened except that Edgar was bleeding black ooze. Edgar threw Sam against a nearby car. Sam grunted in pain.

"Sammy!" Angela yelled.

Edgar stalked towards Angela, but Dean suddenly appeared and shot Edgar in the side of the head with a shotgun. Edgar straightened up, looked at the black ooze of his hand, and his face transformed. His mouth enlarged, his teeth became long and jagged, and a long, two-pronged tongue unfurled. With his face returned to normal, Edgar knocked away Dean's gun, then grabbed Dean and threw him against the car. Angela ran up and punched Edgar in the face.

"Angie, no!" Sam yelled.

Angela looked back at Dean. "Dean, now!"

Dean was on the ground but operated the controls for a hoist that was holding a car suspended in the air. Edgar smashed Angela in the head with a metal bar, seconds before the car dropped onto Edgar. Angela fell backward onto the ground. Black ooze spread from under the car around Edgar's hand, which was the only part of him that was visible. Sam and Dean pulled themselves over to Angela, who was unconscious.

"Oh God, Angie," Sam breathed. "Angie wake up, come on."

"Angie?" Dean asked, shaking her gently. "Dammit, wake up, kid!"

The brothers looked at her for a few moments. Sam swallowed nervously and looked at Dean. "Dean, neither of us can drive…You gotta call an ambulance!"

Dean nodded and quickly pulled out his cell phone.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were on a stretcher inside the ambulance. A paramedic was examining Angela.

Sam looked over at Angela in concern from his stretcher. "Angie, you gotta stay with us," he pleaded.

"Female, late twenties, head trauma." The paramedic said into a communicator. "Signs of increasing intracranial pressure."

"Angie?" Dean called. "Angie?!"

Angela started seizing on her stretcher. Sam's frowned deepened and he thrashed against his stretcher.

"Angie!" Sam exclaimed. "Angie, you gotta stay with us, please."

"Yeah, she's seizing." The paramedic said into the communicator. "Copy that. We're just pulling into Sioux Falls."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, their eyes wide.

"Sioux Falls? Sioux Falls General?" Sam asked frantically.

The paramedic just nodded as he continued examining Angela.

"No, no, no," Dean pleaded. "No, you gotta take us somewhere else, anywhere. Please."

"Yeah, okay, buddy." The paramedic scoffed.

Sam looked at Angela nervously. Dean just knocked his head against the pillow in distress.


	5. The Girl Next Door Part 1

Sam and Dean were each on a hospital bed looking up at bright lights. A doctor was wrapping Sam's ankle and another doctor was getting ready to pop his shoulder back in. A group of doctors surrounded Dean, prepping to set his broken leg.

"Hold him down," one doctor instructed as she tended to Dean.

"Hey," Dean mumbled groggily.

"Three, two, one, set!" the doctor instructed.

Dean yelled in pain as the doctors set his leg. Sam looked over in concern and then let out a pained yell as his doctor popped his shoulder back in.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, looking over at his brother.

"Nurse!" the doctor called. "Just relax," she told Dean.

"Where are we?" Sam asked.

"You're at the hospital." The doctor answered.

"Which one?" Dean pressed.

"Sioux Falls General." The doctor replied as the nurse gave Dean a shot.

"Where's my girlfriend?" Sam asked, clearly worried. "You have to tell me where she is!"

"She bashed her head quite severely." The doctor replied. "She's gone up for an MRI."

"Okay," Dean nodded as he started to sit up. "We got to go."

"You two aren't going anywhere right now." The doctor said seriously. "Relax."

~/~\~

Dean woke up slowly and saw a sign that read _Sioux Falls General Hospital_. Sam was in the bed next to him, already awake. Sam's ankle had been wrapped in bandages and there was a splint protecting his shoulder.

"Oh, no, no, no," Dean mumbled. He pulled the IV drip out of his arm and tried to get up.

"Dean, I-I wouldn't do that if I were you…" Sam suggested.

Dean didn't listen, and he fell to the floor with a yell. He looked down to see that his right leg was in a cast.

"What?" Dean's brows furrowed.

Suddenly, Bobby entered the room wearing a suit. Sam and Dean looked at him with wide eyes.

"You okay?" Bobby asked Dean with a frown.

"Bobby, you're alive." Dean breathed.

"Of course, I am," Bobby replied. "Why are you on the floor?"

"They gave him morphine," Sam replied. "A lot."

Bobby helped Dean up.

"Hey, look, a monster broke my leg," Dean muttered. "Oh. Wait…the house."

"We thought you were dead," Sam added.

"Well, I ain't. Not yet. But we got to run. This place ain't safe." Bobby replied. "Where's Angie?"

"Uh…Head scan, I think," Dean replied.

Bobby nodded. "Okay. Meet me at the ambulance dock stat. I'll find Angie."

"Wait, where?" Dean asked, brows furrowed. "Bobby, I'm a gimp!"

"Here," Bobby handed him some crutches.

"Bobby, my ankles sprained…" Sam added.

Bobby pursed his lips and handed Sam a pair of crutches as well before he left the room.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean exited the hospital room on crutches. Dean's vision started to blur due to being on morphine.

~/~\~

Bobby approached an orderly who was moving an unconscious Angela on a stretcher and held up some ID.

"Hold the phone there, son," Bobby started. "Who's this?" he asked as he looked at the chart on Angela's stretcher. "Yeah, this is the girl. Coverage lapsed. We're shipping her to County." He instructed.

Bobby started moving the stretcher and looked down at Angela.

"Come on, sicko," he muttered. "Let's get you healed up someplace a little safer."

~/~\~

Dr. Gaines and the Nurse walked purposefully down the hallway as Sam and Dean made their way on crutches. Bobby pushed Angela on the stretcher and walked out of the hospital via the ambulance entrance. Bobby quickly put Angela's stretcher in an ambulance.

"Come on, boys," Bobby muttered as he got in the driver's seat.

Through the ambulance side mirror, Bobby saw Dr. Gaines and the Nurse come out of the ambulance entrance door.

"Balls!" Bobby snapped. "Come on, boys. Come on!"

Sam burst through the passenger side door and made his way to the back of the ambulance so that he would be next to Angela. Dean followed quickly and sat in the passenger's seat.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Dean yelled.

Bobby accelerated and sped out of the ambulance bay, leaving Dr. Gaines and the Nurse at the hospital.

~/~\~

_Three Weeks Later_

Sam, Angela, and Dean were in Rufus's cabin. Sam and Angela sat at the kitchen table reading while Dean sat on the couch watching television. On the TV, a woman was crying over a man's body. Bobby entered the room and Dean looked up.

"Dude… Ricardo," Dean said.

Bobby's brows furrowed. "What happened?"

"Suicidio," Dean replied.

Bobby sighed. "Adios, ese."

Dean looked very moved at what has happened on the TV.

"Well, this ought to cheer you up," Bobby said, handing the Impala's keys to Dean.

"My baby!" Dean grinned. "Now, I just got to get this stupid thing off and I can drive again." He added, looking at his cast.

"So, how is it out there?" Angela asked as Bobby sat next to her.

"Weird with a side of bloody," Bobby replied. "Talked to a few hunters. They're running into the same kind of thing that set up shop at that hospital."

"Yeah, and don't forget tried to kill us at your place," Dean added.

"Well, the consensus is they're, um, they're like shapeshifters, only a lot more into eating folk. And nothing can kill 'em."

"Good times." Dean nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yep. They bleed black goo." Bobby replied.

"Like that stuff that came out of Cas, those things from Purgatory," Sam commented. "Um…Leviathan."

"Yep," Bobby replied.

"What about those chompers that you said the Sheriff saw at the hospital?" Dean asked. "They still making spleen burgers?"

"Yeah, made some calls." Bobby sighed. "That doctor never showed back up to work. Ditto to a nurse and some administrator."

Sam zoned out as he started hearing voices in his head.

" _You never left, Sam."_ Lucifer's voice rang through.

"So, they could be at any hospital in America," Angela said.

"Yeah." Bobby nodded.

" _You're still in the Cage…with me."_ Lucifer taunted.

Angela looked over at Sam. "What do you think, babe?" she asked. "Sammy? Sam."

" _Sam…"_ Lucifer cooed.

"Hey, ground control!" Dean snapped. "Sam!"

Sam turned over his left palm and looked at the healed wound on his hand. "Yeah. W-what? I-I'm right here."

Angela's brows furrowed, and she rested her hand on top of his. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I'm fine."

There was a long, slightly uncomfortable pause between everyone.

"Good," Bobby finally said. "Every last bit of info I ever had burned down, so…"

"What about this place?" Dean asked. "Rufus leave anything? Did you check the basement?"

"C-rations and dust." Bobby sighed. "I don't think he'd been here in years. So, I got to go round up my old library."

"I thought you said most of those books were one-of-a-kind," Angela replied.

"Yeah. That's why I stashed copies all over the place." Bobby shrugged.

"Okay, good." Dean nodded. "Um…Hey, uh, two-legs." Dean looked at Sam. "We're fresh out of grub. Want to make a run?"

"Sure. Yeah." Sam nodded.

Dean tossed Sam the keys to the Impala.

"I'll come with you," Angela commented, closing her book.

"Angie, I'll be fine, you just stay here and rest," Sam replied. "Please?" he added for good measure.

Angela smiled softly. "Sammy, it's been three weeks. My head is fine." She assured. "Now, you have doted on me, and I love you for taking care of me, but I need to get out of the house."

Sam sighed deeply, knowing he wasn't going to win this one. "Fine," he conceded.

"Be careful with my car!" Dean cut in. "And, uh, guys?"

"Yeah?" Sam asked as he and Angela walked to the front door.

"Pie," Dean said.

"Obviously." Sam nodded before he and Angela left.

Dean waited for a few beats and looked at Bobby. "So?"

Bobby's brows furrowed in confusion. "So, what?"

"Before you bail again— _Girl Interrupted_ over there," Dean replied. "Any thoughts?"

"Looks to me like he's doing better." Bobby shrugged.

"Better?" Dean scoffed. "What do you mean, better? You just saw him!"

"Saw him check out _once_ ," Bobby replied. "That's progress. Angie seems to think that he's doing fine too."

"Yeah, well, Angie's just putting on a brave face," Dean muttered.

Bobby sighed. "Look, seems to me that Sam's head ain't no different than your leg. People heal on a curve."

"No diff—Bobby, I get this thing off in five days, I'm golden." Dean gestured to his vast. "Sam's not a curve. He's a freakin' time bomb!"

"It ain't like he's keeping secrets." Bobby defended. "What you see is what you get. What's so nuts about calling an upswing?"

"Because that's not how it works, Bobby, ever!" Dean replied. "Alright? Especially not with Sam. The other shoe is gonna drop. It's just a matter of time."

"Okay," Bobby replied as he got up. "How 'bout we worry about today's problems? And today, we need intel. I'm going. You sit there and stew. I'll check in. Look…you sitting here wringing your hands ain't gonna do nothing." He stressed. "Maybe he'll surprise you." He added before leaving.

~/~\~

Sam carried a basket of groceries to the counter. He held Angela's hand in his free hand.

"Hi," Angela smiled at the store clerk.

"Hey." The clerk replied flatly.

Sam picked up the Bozeman Times Newspaper. The headline read _ICE PICK KILLER STRIKES AGAIN_.

"Paper, too?" the clerk asked.

"Uh, yeah." Sam nodded. "Yeah, please. Here." He handed the clerk his credit card.

~/~\~

Sam put the shopping bag on the table near Dean, who reached for it.

"Ah, thank you," Dean said.

"Yep," Sam replied.

Dean turned off the TV.

"Where's Bobby?" Angela asked as she wrapped her arms around Sam's middle. "He take off?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. He looked up at Sam. "Hey, Sam, how you doing?"

Sam pulled Angela closer to him and shrugged. "Fine."

"I mean, you still, you know…" Dean trailed off.

"Yeah, no, I-I know what you mean," Sam replied. "Yeah, I-I'm still seeing crap that's not real. But, yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I can tell the difference."

"Think it's getting better?" Dean asked.

"Honestly?" Sam sighed, running his fingers through Angela's hair. "Uh…I don't know. I just know I'm managing it, so…So, don't worry."

Dean nodded and frowned when he pulled out a cake. "Where's the pie?"

"They were out." Sam shrugged. "I got cake. It's close enough, right?"

"I told you he'd be upset, Sam," Angela muttered.

Sometime later, Dean was asleep on the couch and Angela was asleep in the room she shared with Sam. Sam was reading an article in the newspaper, titled _Victim's fatal wounds 'signature' of the killer_.

~/~\~

_A teenage Sam was reading a newspaper on a bench and talking on the phone._

" _Yeah, so, from what I can tell, it's something called a Kitsune," Sam started. "Not much. They…look human…till they sprout out claws and stab you behind your ear to get to your brain. I don't—I don't know yet." He sighed. "Yes, Dean, I realize killing 'em's importance. Maybe if Uncle Bobby sent a book in English. I am!" he added. "No, no, don't—don't put him on the phone." He begged. "Hi, Dad. Yes, sir. I realize people are dying. Yeah, I'm on my way to the library right now."_

~/~\~

Sam left a note for Dean and Angela on the table next to the uneaten cake. He took the keys to the Impala and left.

~/~\~

Angela walked into the main room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She saw Dean holding a piece of paper.

"What's that?" Angela asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Dean clutched the paper angrily. "A note from Sam…He left…"

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?!"

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed. "Other shoe!" he snapped.

" _Other who?"_ Bobby's voice rang through the speaker.

"Sam. He took off." Dean replied.

" _Where?"_ Bobby asked.

"I don't know. Neither does Angie." Dean replied.

" _Well, maybe he needed a little 'me-time'."_ Bobby defended.

"Yeah, but his me-time ain't just him," Dean replied. "I mean, for all we know he's road-trippin' with Lucifer somewhere."

" _I assume you called_. _"_ Bobby sighed.

"Straight to voicemail. Angie's trying to call him right now." Dean replied. "He turned his GPS off, too. And he took my car!"

" _Don't panic,"_ Bobby replied calmly.

"Too late!" Dean snapped.

" _Look, he says he's okay, so give it a couple of days,"_ Bobby replied. _"Just till you get the cast off, then hunt him down. Till then, we'll just keep calling him."_

Dean just sighed and hung up. He looked at Angela he shook her head as she hung up her phone. Dean grabbed an angle grinder.

"You're going down," he muttered, looking at his cast.

~/~\~

"You guys thinking this is another one—so-called ice pick killer?" Sam asked as he walked with the police officer.

"Same M.O." the officer nodded. "Can't say I'm too broken up about this one."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Oh, you knew him?"

"Busted him half a dozen times. Real mensch."

"So, what's the deal?" Sam asked. "Um, killer comes to town, ganks a lowlife, moves along?"

"Looks like," the officer sighed.

"Stabs 'em all exactly the same, right? Behind the ear?"

"Yeah. No explaining a psycho." The officer replied. "We left that detail out of the paper, though. How'd you know?"

"I worked a case like this a few years back." Sam shrugged.

"Think it's related?"

"You find anything weird about the brains?" Sam questioned.

The officer's brows furrowed. "Like what?"

"Like…" Sam started. "Missing."

"Huh." The officer muttered. "Good question for the coroner."

"Right. Thanks." Sam nodded.

Sam's phone beeped. He took it out of his pocket to see that he had a few missed calls.

~/~\~

Angela pulled up to the gas station that she and Sam had stopped by. Dean was in the passenger's seat.

"Alright, this is the place we went to," Angela sighed as the two got out of the car.

Dean and Angela walked into the gas station and Angela smiled at the clerk.

"Hi, do you still have yesterday's paper?" she asked politely.

The clerk nodded. "Yeah, right there." He said, gesturing to a blue bin.

Dean went and grabbed the newspaper and frowned at the headline. "Do you mind?" he asked the clerk.

The clerk just shook his head. Dean and Angela walked out of the gas station.

~/~\~

The coroner pulled out the body. "We don't get too many murders out this way…much less serial."

"So, what'd you find?" Sam asked.

"It's what we didn't find." The coroner clarified. "Let me show you. Big chunk of mid-brain went missing."

"Mid-brain, like pituitary gland?"

"Actually, their pituitaries were clear gone." The coroner frowned. "How'd you know that?"

~/~\~

_Sam was sitting at the table with a book while he talked on the phone._

" _Yeah, so, they need a steady diet of human pituitary glands to survive," Sam said into the phone._

~/~\~

"Educated guess," Sam told the coroner.

~/~\~

Sam was hanging his research on the motel wall and marking locations on a map.

~/~\~

" _Hang on," Sam said. "Slow down." He stressed as he marked locations on a map. "Right. So, the victims are located in parks just off the highway. Just one per town. That's something." He sighed. "What? I-I'm just tired. I've been looking at this for like eight years." He added. He frowned slightly. "Wait. Hang on. I'll call you right back."_

_Sam hung up and drew a line on his map between the Xs._

~/~\~

Sam pursed his lips as he drew a line on his map between the Xs and circled another location.

~/~\~

Sam parked the Impala in a deserted street and sat in it, waiting.

~/~\~

_Sam walked up to a coffee vendor that was right outside of the library. "Triple red-eye, please."_

_The vendor's eyebrows shot up. "Okay…"_

_Sam watched as a young blonde girl walked into the library. The vendor held out his coffee._

" _Triple red eye."_

_Sam turned and handed the vendor some money. "Thanks." He replied before he took the coffee and walked into the library._

_Sam sat at the table reading a book. He watched as the blonde girl browsed a magazine rack, but looked away when she looked at him._

~/~\~

Sam frowned when he saw a car pull up nearby. The car stopped and someone stepped out.

~/~\~

_Sam took a book from a shelf and saw Amy on the other side of the shelves. He was on the phone again._

" _You stab it in the heart," Sam whispered. "Stab it. The heart." He repeated. "I said, you stab it in the heart!"_

_The librarian shot Sam an angry look. "Shh!"_

_Sam sighed. "Okay. Are you guys cool? Can I have a normal life for like five minutes now? Oh, Dean. Quick question. How do you talk to girls?"_

_After a moment Sam hung up and straightened his jacket. He walked up to Amy, who was sitting at a table. She was wearing a necklace with a crescent moon pendant._

" _Um…I just wanted to, you know, say hi and—_

_Amy looked up at Sam. "No." she cut him off. "Go away. It's just, I'm not supposed to talk to boys."_

_Sam just nodded, hurt flashing through his eyes. He turned to leave the library._

~/~\~

_Sam left the library, as did Amy a few moments later. She walked away and was followed by two boys. Sam frowned and followed them._

_The boys had Amy cornered by a tree._

" _Leave me alone," Amy pleaded._

" _Come on. We just want to talk." The first boy replied._

" _I have to go," Amy started to walk away._

_The second boy pushed her against the tree roughly._

" _Uh-uh-uh." The first boy tutted. "Why so rude?"_

" _Don't touch me!" Amy exclaimed._

" _Hey," the first boy snapped. "I said be nice."_

" _Why don't you?" Sam cut in._

_The first boy looked at Sam. "Butt out," he replied. "Can you believe this guy?" he asked his friend._

_The first boy put out a hand to shove Sam, but he blocked it and punched him. The second boy punched Sam and Sam retaliated quickly. Soon enough, the two boys bolted and Sam looked at Amy._

" _Hi." He greeted. "I'm Sam."_

" _I'm Amy," she smiled._

~/~\~

Sam was following a woman who was walking through the woods. The woman watched a man who was standing next to his car, fumbling with his keys.

"Dammit." The man muttered as he dropped his keys.

Suddenly Sam came up behind the woman. She turned, and Sam held a knife to her chest. He looked down at her necklace. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

"Hi, Amy." He said.


	6. The Girl Next Door Part 2

Amy looked up at Sam with wide eyes. "Sam," she breathed. "Wow."

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"I just…never thought I'd see you again," Amy noted. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you know." He replied, his nostrils flaring slightly.

Amy looked him over. "You got tall, huh?"

Sam scoffed. "Small talk? _Really?_ Let's take a walk."

"Sam—

"Walk." He commanded, grabbing her arm.

The pair walked through the woods. Sam was holding a knife to Amy's chest.

"So, same pattern, same victim pool…" Sam started. "Just like when we were kids."

"No," Amy shook her head. "I—it's not what—look, I'm not—I've had the same job for the last six years. I—I have a house, two cats, a mortgage. I have a normal life!"

Sam stopped and stood in front of her. "You call this normal?"

~/~\~

_The Goo Goo Dolls' 'Two Days in February' was playing on the radio. Sam sat on the couch._

" _Ready to play doctor?" Amy asked as she dabbed at his face. They were silent for a few moments. "So, you gonna tell me?"_

" _What?" Sam's brows furrowed._

_Amy chuckled. "How you kicked the crap out of those guys. I mean…no offense, but you're kind of…"_

" _Wiry?" Sam smirked._

" _Exactly," Amy giggled. "So…?"_

_Sam shrugged. "Just watch a lot of Bruce Lee movies."_

_Amy nodded. "You thirsty?"_

" _Sure." Sam smiled._

_Amy went and opened the fridge, which contained jars holding brains. She moved a jar and grabbed a can of soda. "So, you live around here?" She asked as she closed the fridge._

" _No, not really," Sam replied as Amy sat down next to him. "It's a cool song," he pointed out. "My dad doesn't listen to anything recorded after 1979, so…" he trailed off, holding the can to his face._

" _Does that mean you can't?" Amy asked._

_Sam shrugged. "I'm kind of stuck in the car a lot. My dad has to travel. For work."_

" _Yeah, me and my mom bounce around a lot, too," Amy replied. "She's all about, like, 'letting the wind be our guide'."_

" _Like a hippie?" Sam scoffed._

" _Minus the peace and love." She replied. She took the can from Sam and cracked it open before she took a sip from it._

" _We're always on the road." Sam sighed. "I mean, I've seen the world's biggest ball of twine twice."_

" _Three times." Amy laughed. "Not that big."_

" _Right?" Sam agreed with a smile. "Okay, but be honest—I mean, moving all the time sucks. You're always the new kid, and everyone always thinks you're a freak."_

" _Sam, you are a freak," Amy replied bluntly. "But so was, I don't know, Jimi Hendrix and…Picasso. So am I. All the coolest people are freaks."_

_Sam smiled softly and the pair leaned forward to kiss each other._

~/~\~

"Sam," Amy started. "What I am, I'm managing it."

"You spiked three guys this week!" Sam snapped.

"No, you don't understand." She replied. "It's not like that. I-I'm not just some murderer. I had to."

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"I can't—I just had to," Amy's voice cracked. "Please, believe me, Sam."

Sam paused and shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry." He replied as he reached into her pocket with his left hand.

Amy pursed her lips. "So am I."

Amy knocked the knife from Sam's hand and shoved him against a tree. Sam fell to the ground. In his left hand were several items he snagged from Amy's pocket.

~/~\~

"This is the one he asked to see." The coroner gestured to the body.

"Great, great." Dean nodded. "Uh, let me ask you, did he do anything to it?"

The coroner gave Dean a weird look. "No…He just asked a few questions about the other vics—missing pituitary glands and so forth."

Dean sighed deeply. "Son of a bitch."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were in their borrowed car. Angela had called Bobby and put him on speaker.

" _Sam's chasin' a what?"_ Bobby's voice rang through.

"A Kitsune, apparently," Angela replied.

"It's pretty rare," Dean added. "Dad and I hunted one back in '98."

" _Vaguely rings a bell…"_ Bobby replied.

"Yeah, didn't make our highlight reel." Dean sighed.

" _Well, least now we know he's working a job,"_ Bobby replied.

"Yeah, but why disappear like that?" Angela questioned.

" _Not a clue,"_ Bobby muttered. _"What are you gonna do when you catch up?"_

"I got a few ideas," Dean replied.

~/~\~

Amy hastily threw her clothes into a suitcase and put framed photos face down. She froze and after a few beats, she turned around to see Sam.

"How did you find me?" Amy asked.

Sam held up a receipt. "You dropped this." He replied. "Amy Pond, huh? Cute name. You weren't kidding about the mortgage."

"Sam…"

Sam frowned when he saw blood on Amy's hand. "Wait, that's fresh. That's not mine." He walked towards her. "So, you killed again!"

"You think I wanted to?" Amy's voice wavered.

"I think you better tell me exactly what you're doing, or I have to kill you whether I want to or not!" Sam yelled.

"I can't," Amy stressed. "Sam, you know me!"

"No," Sam shook his head. "I knew you. But that was a long time ago."

"No, you know me," Amy assured. "You know the kind of person I am."

~/~\~

_Sam and Amy pulled away from each other and smiled. Sam tried to set the can of soda on the coffee table, but it fell off and spilled._

" _Oh!" Amy exclaimed. "Crap."_

" _Sorry," Sam replied. "I didn't mean to."_

" _It's just, if she sees it, you know, my mom will be so pissed," Amy replied._

" _Yeah. It was just an accident." Sam assured._

" _Yeah, well, she has a temper," Amy muttered. "Sometimes. It's…no big deal."_

" _My dad does, too," Sam said softly. "You don't want to see him when he's drinking."_

" _My mom…I don't think she's a good person," Amy admitted. "Sometimes I don't think I'm a good person."_

" _You are," Sam assured._

" _Don't be so sure." Amy sighed._

_Sam put his hand over Amy's. "I've been around enough bad to know good when I see it."_

" _It's just she has this…whole plan for me, but…I don't want to be like her, you know?"_

" _I don't want to be like my dad, either," Sam replied softly._

~/~\~

"Alright. So then tell me what's going on." Sam demanded.

"Drop the knife and I'll show you."

"Show me and I'll drop the knife." Sam countered.

Amy sighed. "Don't move," she replied. She opened the door to a room in which a child was sleeping. "This is Jacob…my _son._ I've built a life here, Sam. I'm…in the PTA. I'm boring."

"But you're still feeding," Sam replied.

"On the dead!" she replied. "I'm a mortician. I know. Not sexy, but, you know, health benefits. I quietly take what Jacob and I need. No one gets hurt. But, it can be risky, feeding like that, especially for a kid. Jacob got sick. He was dying, and the only way to fight it off was—

"He needed fresh meat." Sam sighed.

"It worked," Amy replied. "After the last one, his fever broke."

"Amy—

"It's over," Amy assured.

"You can't guarantee that." Sam shook his head.

"I give you my word." She replied sincerely. "So, how is spilling more blood gonna help anyone? You could still walk away from this. We both can. Sam…After what I did for you."

~/~\~

" _Amy, I—_

" _Hide!" Amy exclaimed._

_Sam's brows furrowed. "What?"_

" _Quick!" Amy shoved Sam in a closet and closed the door just before her mom entered. "Hey," she greeted her mom._

" _They caught up." Amy's mom sighed._

" _Who caught up?" Amy frowned._

" _Couple of pros in a piece-of-crap Impala. We're leaving."_

" _But, Mom—_

" _I'm only gonna say this once—I put the food on this table, so you will do as you are told or I will let you starve!"_

_Amy's mom walked towards the closet where Sam was hiding._

" _Okay!" Amy stopped her. "Gas up the van. I'll pack."_

_Sam drew his knife in the closet._

_Amy's mom smirked. "Good girl." She said before leaving._

_Amy opened the closet door. "Awesome first date, huh? Look, I'm sorry you got to go like this, but…What's wrong?" she asked, noticing the look on Sam's face. "Look, I know my mom's—_

" _No, I. just have to go," Sam replied. "I'm sorry." He added. He looked over and saw a brain in a jar on a table._

_Amy turned around. "Oh, that—that's nothing! That's just…"_

_Sam lifted his knife and Amy frowned._

" _Sam?"_

" _It's my dad and brother in the Impala." Sam snarled. "You're a monster."_

" _You're a hunter," Amy replied. "So…you're supposed to kill me? And I'm supposed to kill you?"_

" _I guess," Sam replied._

" _Sam, I've never killed anyone!" she replied. "And I don't want to hurt you. Do you want to hurt me?"_

_Sam paused and shook his head. "No."_

" _Then run," Amy stressed. "If my mom finds you, she'll kill you. Just run. Please, Sam!"_

~/~\~

Sam was walking towards his motel room. He unlocked the door and was punched by Dean, who was waiting inside with Angela. Sam fell back into some plants.

"Howdy, Sam." Dean greeted.

~/~\~

Angela grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and walked over to Sam. "Sit down," she instructed. "I can't reach your head."

Sam sighed and sat down on one of the kitchenette chairs. Angela held the can of soda to his head.

"New rule," Dean started. "You steal my baby, you get punched. The hell were you thinking, Sam, running off like that? I mean, for all we know, Satan could have been callin' your plays."

"Dean, look, how many times do I have to tell you guys?" Sam replied. "I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah, no, you're the poster boy for mental health," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Sammy, we were worried." Angela cut in gently.

"I left you guys a note," Sam defended. "There was a job in town."

"A Kitsune." Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. No, I know."

"Baby, why did you have to ignore our phone calls?" Angela asked with a sigh.

Sam shrugged. "Because I wanted to take care of it. And I did. I took care of it."

"Really?" Dean raised a brow.

"Yes."

"Where's the body?" Dean asked.

Sam paused. "There is no body…"

Dean pursed his lips. "Why not?"

"Because I let her go," Sam admitted. "She's gone."

"You what?!" Dean snapped. "Why?"

~/~\~

_Sam opened the front door to leave and was met with Amy's mom. She grabbed him and forced him backward._

" _Sam!" Amy exclaimed._

" _I knew you were hiding something." The older woman snarled. "See, we can never blow town without Amy throwing a bitch-fit. So, agreeing to go peacefully—well. Who's this?"_

" _He's my friend," Amy replied._

" _No, he's not." The older woman laughed._

" _Sam!" Amy exclaimed again._

" _Shut up!" Amy's mom barked. "What is wrong with you, huh? You that stupid? Really? I thought I already told you, you cannot have friends! This kid is food!"_

" _No!" Amy begged._

_Amy's mom let go of Sam and backhanded Amy. She raised a fist to Sam. "This'll teach you." She snarled as her fingernails extended into long, pointed claws._

_Suddenly, Amy stabbed her mother from behind. The woman turned to look at her daughter, betrayal all over her face._

~/~\~

"You never told me that," Dean commented.

"I never told anyone." Sam shrugged. "I mean, can you imagine what Dad would have done?"

"So, you saw the article in the newspaper, and you just bolted." Angela murmured.

"It was my mess." Sam sighed.

"And you call letting her go cleaning it up?" Dean scoffed.

Sam sighed. "She killed her own mom, Dean, to save me."

"I hear you, Sam. I do." Dean assured. "But look at her now. She's dropping bodies, man…Which means we got to drop her, no matter how many merit badges she racked up when she was a kid. I'm sorry, but it's that simple."

Sam shook his head. "Nothing in our lives is simple."

~/~\~

" _You have to run," Sam instructed. "Amy! Do you have cash?"_

_Amy just nodded._

" _I—I want you on the first bus out of town." Sam continued. "Tonight."_

" _But what about—_

" _I'll take care of her," Sam assured. "Just go!"_

" _Come with me." Amy murmured. "We don't have to be alone. We can be freaks together, Sam. Sam…"_

" _I can't," Sam shook his head. "I'm sorry."_

_Amy nodded. "So am I."_

~/~\~

"Look, man, I get it, okay?" Dean started. "You meet a girl, you feel that spark—there's nothing better. But this freak?"

Sam grabbed his jacket and got up from the chair.

Dean sighed. "I didn't mean—

"Yeah, you did," Sam muttered.

Angela set down the can of soda. "Sammy—

"Look, it's fine." Sam cut her off. "I-I see the way you both look at me. Like I'm some kind of grenade and you're waiting for me to go off."

"Sam—

"I'm not going off," Sam assured. "Look, I might be a freak, but that's not the same as dangerous."

"I didn't say—

"It's okay. Say it." Sam shrugged. "I've spent a lot of my life trying to be normal, Dean, but come on. I'm not normal. Look at all the crap I've done, look at me now. I'm a grade-A freak. But I'm managing it. And so is Amy."

"Is she?" Dean raised a brow. "How?"

"She works at a damn funeral home so she doesn't have to kill anyone, Dean," Sam replied. "She's figured out how to deal."

"Okay, well, then explain the bodies." Dean countered.

"She's done," Sam assured. "Her friggin' kid was dying, Dean. Put you, me, or Angie in her position, we'd probably do the same thing. Look, you don't trust her. Fine. Trust me, Dean. Please."

Dean paused for a moment and sighed. "Fine."

Sam was taken aback. "Seriously?"

"Got to start sometime, right?" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Dean was on the phone. Sam and Angela were walking towards him hand in hand. Angela was carrying a shopping bag in her free hand.

"Bozeman," Dean said on the phone. "Right. Got it. Thanks." He added before hanging up. "That was Bobby. We'll hole up in Spokane tonight. We'll meet him tomorrow. Why don't you drive?" he tossed Sam the keys. "I'm gonna stretch out in the back."

Sam caught the keys and raised a brow. "You gonna punch me again?"

~/~\~

Sam pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot.

"Hey, why don't, uh—why don't you guys check us in?" Dean suggested. "I got to hit the candy store." He held up his bottle of pills. "Doctor's orders."

Sam and Angela got out of the car. Dean got into the front seat and drove off.

~/~\~

Amy entered her motel room and jumped when she saw Dean sitting on the couch.

"Next time you run, you should change your license plates," Dean commented. "Keeping the same tags makes you easy to track."

"Who are—

"I'm Sam's brother," Dean replied. "And you're Amy Pond," he added as he stood up. "The Bozeman mortician who went missing. There's people looking for you."

"Sam sent you?" Amy asked.

Dean shook his head. "Sam doesn't know I'm here."

"But he told you," Amy replied. "My son—

"I know. I know." Dean cut her off. "But people…they are who they are. No matter how hard you try, you are what you are. You will kill again."

"I won't," she assured. "I swear."

"Trust me," Dean started. "I'm an expert. Maybe in a year, maybe ten. But eventually, the other shoe will drop. It always does." He added before he stabbed her. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He caught Amy as she fell and lowered her to the bed.

Dean removed the knife from her body and turned to see Amy's son Jacob standing at the door.

"You got someone you can go to?" Dean asked.

Jacob nodded silently.

"You ever kill anyone?" Dean questioned.

Jacob just shook his head.

Dean nodded. "Well, if you do, I'll come back for you."

"The only person I'm gonna kill is you," Jacob warned.

Dean paused, taken aback by the reply. "Well, look me up in a few years. Assuming I live that long."

Dean held up his hands, one still holding the knife, and he walked towards the door. Dean watched as Jacob ran over to his mom's body.


	7. Defending Your Life Part 1

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up into a crime scene and got out of the Impala.

" _Sam,"_ Lucifer's voice rang through.

Sam pressed his thumb to his healed wound.

"Feels wonky," Dean said suddenly.

Sam looked up, his brows furrowed. "What?"

"Working a regular job." Dean shrugged.

"Bobby'll call if anything flares up on the Leviathan front," Angela assured. "In the meantime, you know you want to work this case. Cops on the wire sounded dumbfounded."

"No arguments." Dean agreed. "It's kind of nice, you know? We're due for a little cut and dry."

The three hunters held up their FBI badges and a policeman let them through the _'Do Not Cross'_ line.

"And you seem good," Angela added, smiling up at her boyfriend.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I am," he assured. "For me." He added. "By the way…Thank you." He said to Dean.

Dean raised a brow. "For?"

"Amy," Sam replied. "I know you didn't want to let her go, but it was the right thing to do. So, thanks."

Dean paused for a moment and nodded. "No problem."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela showed their IDs again as they ducked under the yellow police tape.

"Welcome to Crazytown, population—one dead guy." The Detective said.

"Who was he?" Angela asked.

"Uh, Matthew Hammond." The Detective answered. "Seems to have been crushed to death."

"By?" Dean questioned.

The Detective sighed. "Well, if we weren't on the 10th floor, I'd say by a car."

A police photographer took a picture of the bloodstained wall with a hole knocked through it. Sam took out his EMF reader.

"It's going crazy," Sam muttered.

"Some kind of ghost?" Angela asked.

"With a license?" Dean scoffed before a smirk pulled at his lips. "License to kill."

Sam raised a brow. "Seriously?" He asked. He bent down when he saw a red powder. "Huh."

"What do you got?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam replied. "Looks like some kind of powder."

"Sulfur?" Angela asked.

"No," Sam shook his head. "Just dirt. Could be _'Christine'_ -like."

"Ugh. Even possessed cars can't do stairs." Dean replied. "It's something spectral." He added as he picked up a token. "Check this out, AA, 10 years. Dead _and_ sober." He said, tossing the token to Angela. "Double crappy."

Angela was looking through some papers. "There's a charge that keeps coming up. 50 bucks a month at a place called Jane's. Alright," she said, tossing Dean the chip. "Congrats on your sobriety." She smiled. "Sammy and I will go find out what Jane's is."

Dean faltered slightly. "I gave up AA for Lent."

Sam scoffed. "We're not Catholic, Dean."

"Always with the details," Dean muttered. "AA gives me the jeebs."

"Wow. Shocker." Sam sassed.

"Shut up," Dean replied.

"Fine," Angela cut in, rolling her eyes. "Sammy and I will hit the meeting, you go hit on Jane."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were talking to a woman outside of the AA building.

"Matt was a nice guy," the woman started. "Kind of a tortured soul. Join the club. But, he just seemed to have a lot going on."

"Any idea what it was?" Angela asked. "Family, a girl?"

"He played it all pretty close to the vest." The woman shrugged. "Something was eating at him, though, the last time I saw him. He almost slipped."

Sam's eyebrows went up. "When?"

"Just before he died, I guess. Called me from Neal's Tavern." She replied. "Said he was an inch away from drinking. So, I ran over, talked him off the ledge."

"Well, do you know what triggered it?" Sam asked.

"Like I said, he didn't share much." The woman sighed.

Angela nodded. "Well, thank you for your time, ma'am" She replied. "If you remember anything else, please call," she added, handing the woman her card.

~/~\~

Dean walked into the florist shop and the woman, Jane, smiled at him.

"May I help you?" Jane asked.

"Uh, yes. I, uh…" Dean flashed his badge. "Just had a few questions about a customer of yours, name of Matthew Hammond."

Jane's brows furrowed. "Uh, sure. He's not in trouble, is he?"

"Actually, Mr. Hammond is no longer with us," Dean replied,

"Oh," Jane murmured. "Now it all makes sense."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "What does?"

Jane sighed. "He came in, couple days ago, paid me three years in advance to keep his monthly delivery going."

"And where do the flowers go?" Dean asked.

"A Miss Elizabeth Duren," Jane answered.

Dean nodded and pursed his lips. "You mind, uh, writing Elizabeth's address down? I'd like to pay her a visit."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were walking through the graveyard with their flashlights. They stopped in front of a grave that read _'Duren'_.

"Here we go," Dean said. "Meet Elizabeth Duren."

"Died at 10. Wow." Angela murmured.

"So, who was she?" Sam asked, his brows furrowing.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. Why don't we chew on it back at the motel?" He suggested, turning to leave.

Sam and Angela looked at the grave for a moment before following Dean.

~/~\~

Sam was reading the _Detroit Daily News_ archives online on his laptop. Angela sat next to him, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Elizabeth Duren," Sam read. "Killed 10 years ago when a neighbor backed out of his driveway. Didn't see her bike. No one was ever charged. Police ruled it an accident."

"Let me guess," Dean replied. "The neighbor's our 10th-floor pancake."

Sam and just nodded and pursed his lips.

"At least we know he felt bad." Angela sighed. "I mean, the flowers…"

"Kind of makes you wonder if the guy wasn't drunk when he ran her over," Dean replied, looking at the beer bottle he was drinking from.

Sam and Angela just watched him silently.

"Yeah. Alright," Sam finally said as Angela straightened up. "Well, regardless, now that we got a decent bead on ghost rider, let's go."

"What?" Dean frowned.

"Burn her bones," Angela replied as she and Sam stood up. "Put her to rest."

Dean sighed deeply. "The fun never stops…"

~/~\~

Sam and Dean dug out Elizabeth's grave fairly quickly and Angela poured salt and lighter fluid all over the body. Sam and Dean hauled themselves out of the grave and Dean flicked his lighter on before tossing it into the grave. The body burst into flames immediately.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela entered the motel room. Sam was reading a newspaper and held Angela's hand in his free hand.

"Oh, another night at the office." Dean sighed. "Why don't you two take the first shower?"

"Listen to this," Sam started. "A local man, Christopher Fisher, was ripped to shreds in a wild animal attack last night."

"It is a dangerous world out there," Dean replied, sitting on a bed. He took off his jacket and flopped backward onto the bed.

Sam sat at the table and Angela sat on his lap, gently resting against his chest.

"He was in the restroom of a diner," Sam added.

Dean sat up again and sighed. "Yeah, that doesn't sound right."

"Apparently, uh, none of the patrons saw anything," Sam noted. "Guy calls 911, screaming about a dog, but the operator didn't hear anything either."

Angela grabbed Sam's laptop from the table started typing. "Wow," she muttered. "Looks like this guy had a history with dogs."

"Meaning?" Dean asked as he sipped his coffee.

"Five years ago, he was arrested for running a dogfighting operation," Angela replied.

Dean got up from the bed and joined the couple at the table. "Classy." Dean scoffed. "Alright. So, what? He causes so much misery that some Rottweiler goes Cujo on him beyond the grave? Wait a second…Do…Do dogs even have ghosts?"

Angela shrugged. "First I've heard of it."

"That sounds weird," Dean muttered. "Ghost dog?"

"No weirder than ghost car, you know?" Sam countered.

"You know what does make sense?" Dean asked. "Vengeance on the guy that Michael Vick'd you. I mean, I'm no one to judge, but it sounds to me like that guy had it coming."

"Maybe…But maybe not," Sam replied. He read the article that Angela had pulled up on his laptop. "So, he got busted, got probation, started volunteering at an animal shelter."

"Yeah, 'cause he had to." Dean shrugged.

"At first, yeah." Angela nodded. "But, he kept going long after served his time."

"Looks like he got really into it," Sam added. "Raised a lot of money for the cause."

"Huh," Dean muttered.

"People change." Angela shrugged.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, tell that to ghost dog." He muttered before getting up. Dean walked away from the table, holding one hand to his back.

"Alright," Angela sighed as she got up.

"Uh, get suited up," Sam told Dean, also getting up from the table. "Let's go check out the body."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "What?" he groaned.

Sam frowned. "What?"

"What?" Dean turned back towards Sam and Angela. "What?"

"Nothing…" Sam replied.

"Are you okay?" Angela asked.

"Peachy," Dean muttered. "Yeah, let's do this."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked out of the coroner's office to see Dean leaning against the Impala.

"So, guess what he found," Angela started. "Red dirt. Under his nails. On his shoes, too."

"Just like the, uh, car-crash guy's floor?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So, gotta be someplace around here they both walked."

~/~\~

Angela sat in between Sam and Dean in the front seat of the Impala. It was sort of a tight squeeze, but they managed to make it work.

"And apple farm?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Apparently whatever's in red dirt makes great apples."

"Wow." Dean scoffed. "I'd be so interested in that if I ate apples."

"Dean, you do realize there are apples in apple pie, right?" Angela retorted.

Dean paused for a moment and Sam chuckled. "Shut up…" Dean muttered.

"Anyway, this one's supposed to be pretty old." Sam continued. "Uh, mostly abandoned. Few hundred acres."

"A few hundred?!" Dean exclaimed. "We're gonna be searching all year."

Suddenly, an older man ran out into the road and held out his arms to stop the car.

"Whoa!" Dean yelled as he slammed on the breaks, stopping just in time.

"Hey, uh…You okay?" Angela asked as the three hunters got out of the car.

"Guy just jumped in front of a car, Angie," Dean replied.

"Uh, you want us to help you, sir?" Sam asked.

The man was leaning over, breathing heavily.

"Okay, well, why don't we get you out of here before you get roadkilled, huh?" Dean suggested.

The man looked up at Dean and nodded. "Yeah."

~/~\~

Sam handed the man a glass of water, sitting down next to Angela. "So, Warren. Just, uh, take a minute. Tell us what's going on."

"Look—you're good people, I can see that, but you can't do anything for me." Warren shook his head. "No one can."

"Why not?" Angela asked with a frown.

"Because it's impossible. You won't even believe me."

"Well, try us." Dean pushed.

Warren sighed. "I was just put on trial and sentenced to death."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What'd you do?"

"Held up a liquor store," Warren replied. "I killed the owner and his wife. I wasn't thinking. I was young."

"Young?" Dean asked, confused. "When was this?"

"1981," Warren replied.

"And they _just_ put you on trial?" Dean questioned.

"No, no," Warren shook his head. "I just got out of prison."

Dean shook his head and sighed. "Okay, you're making less sense the more you talk." He replied as he got up.

Angela held out an arm to stop him. "No, it's okay," she assured. "Just…go on."

"Did 30 years." Warren continued. "I just got paroled. Not that you're ever free of that. I think about it every day."

"So, then, what were you running from?" Sam asked.

"Well, I told you—the trial!" Warren exclaimed. "All I know is, one minute I'm at the bar, and the next, I get jumped, wake up in a damn courtroom."

"Courtroom?" Dean asked, his brows raised. "Like a… _Courtroom_?"

"Well, no. There was a judge. Everything was crazy." Warren answered. "It was in a barn."

"At the apple farm?" Angela asked.

"Yeah." Warren nodded.

"And this bar where you were grabbed?" Sam asked.

"Neal's Tavern," Warren replied.

"Sam place Matthew Hammond went before his…Car accident," Sam muttered to Dean and Angela. "Think maybe dog guy went there, too?" he added before turning to face Warren. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

Warren's eyes widened. "You believe me? Who the hell are you?"

"We kind of…specialize in crazy," Angela replied. "So, uh, this judge…Does he have a name?"

"No. But there were these weird symbols." Warren replied.

"Symbols?" Sam asked. "Do you remember any of 'em? Can you draw them?" He added, handing Warren a pencil and some paper.

"Excuse us a sec," Dean cut in. "Can I talk to you guys?" Dean asked Sam and Angela.

~/~\~

"What is it?" Sam asked as they walked outside.

"What is it?" Dean scoffed. "Guys, uh…How about a drunk driver, Michael Vick, a murderer?"

"And?" Angela asked, confused.

"And…When did our black-and-white case turn to mud?" Dean countered. "I'm just saying I'm having a hard time not rooting for the ghosts on this one."

"No, you said it yourself—it's not on us to judge," Sam replied.

"Yeah, except that's complete crap," Dean replied. "Everybody judges all day long. Look, I'm just supposed to ignore what that guy did?"

"We've shot people, Dean—more than two." Angela reminded.

"Yeah, you know what? When those ghosts come to kick my ass, they've got a compelling case." Dean replied.

"So, what, you're saying—what? You don't want to work the job anymore?" Sam asked, brows furrowed.

Dean sighed deeply. "I'm just saying, you know, one simple friggin' day on the job—is that too much to ask?"

"Well, look," Sam sighed. "Angie and I are gonna go out, we're gonna go try and find that barn. You coming?"

"I'm gonna check the bar," Dean replied.

"To work or drink?" Angela asked with a frown.

"I haven't decided," Dean replied with a forced smile. He turned and walked away.

Sam and Angela looked at each other, worry in their eyes.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked back into the motel room. Warren looked up at them with wide eyes.

"What's going on? Where'd he go?" Warren asked frantically.

"He, uh…Everything's fine," Sam assured. "Look, let's go back to that farm."

Warren shook his head. "Oh, no, no. No, I'm not going back there."

"Warren, we need your help finding that barn," Angela stressed.

"It's red—it stands out." He replied. "I'm not going back! They're out there."

"Who?" Angela frowned.

"The people I killed. I just—no. No!"

"You're safer with us than not," Sam replied.

"No." Warren shook his head.

"Okay," Sam sighed, grabbing the paper from Warren. "Fine."

Angela made a salt circle around the chair that Warren was sitting in. "I need you to stay inside this circle until we get back, okay? It'll protect you."

"How?" Warren's brows furrowed.

"Just trust her, okay," Sam replied. "We're trying to help."

Sam turned on the TV and tossed Warren the remote.

"Stay put," Angela instructed.

Sam took out his phone and made a call. "Bobby? Hey. Me. Listen—I'm sending you some symbols to look up."

Sam and Angela left the room, Sam mouthing 'stay put' to Warren.

~/~\~

A man rudely bumped into Dean as he walked through the bar. Dean gave him a look.

"No. Excuse me," Dean muttered. "Ah. Dive sweet dive." He sighed as he sat at the bar.

"Hey," the bartender smiled.

Dean smirked slightly as he looked her over. "Well, now I know why everybody comes here."

The bartender chuckled. "What can I get ya?"

"Scotch and soda," Dean replied before he paused for a moment. "You know, hold the soda. Make it a double. So, you, uh, you work the night shift?"

"Why? You plan on making this a regular thing?" the bartender smiled.

Dean laughed and sipped his drink. "No, I just got a few questions. Believe it or not, I'm a cop."

The bartender looked Dean over. "I believe it. You look like you've seen some crap." She replied as Dean downed the rest of his drink. "I'm sorry, I was off all week, but Frank'll be back tomorrow."

"Right." Dean nodded. "Eh…I'll do another."

The bartender poured Dean another drink. "Love life or job? Two quick doubles, it's something. I'm Mia, by the way."

"Well, Mia, that is a complex question," Dean replied. "I'm Dean, by the way."

"Well, Dean," Mia leaned against the bar. "Luckily I'm like a captive shrink with unlimited alcohol. So, shoot."

Dean laughed. "You like to hear people's problems, do ya?"

"I get curious." Mia shrugged. "On occasion." She added as she poured a drink for Dean and one for herself.

"Work thing. Since you asked." Dean replied. "You ever, uh…You ever do something behind someone's back because you had to?"

"Now you feel bad?" Mia asked. "Well, Dean, if you had to, why feel guilty? That doesn't make any sense."

"Hmm." Dean hummed as they clinked glasses. "Well, you know, we don't have enough room for the worms if we pop that can, sister." He said, tapping his glass to indicate that he wanted another a drink.

Mia grabbed the scotch and raised her eyebrows. "You may want to slow your roll, there."

"The more I drink, the better I tip." Dean defended.

"Yeah, well, I'm off in an hour," Mia replied. "So, don't pass out on me."

Dean paused and smirked. "Well, then I think I'll switch to beer."

Mia grinned and put down the scotch. "Good choice."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela drove up to the barn and they got out of the Impala. They entered the barn and looked around. The floor was red dirt. Suddenly, Sam's phone rang, and he put it on speaker.

"Hey, Bobby, what do you got?" Sam asked.

 _"Those chicken scratches—definitely Egyptian."_ Bobby's voice rang through. _"Book of the Dead."_

"So, good news, then," Angela muttered.

 _"They identify the God Osiris,"_ Bobby replied. _"Real authoritarian type. He gets ahold of you, he's judge, jury, and executioner. Lore says that he can directly into the human heart. He weighs the guilt. If he finds more than a feather's worth—boom, you're done."_

"So, what's he doing in Dearborn?" Angela frowned.

 _"Well, it seems like he just pops up and does his circuit-judge act and then disappears again. That's all I got so far."_ Bobby replied. _"You know what this means."_

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "We've got to find him before he goes underground again."

 _"No, you idjit_ , _"_ Bobby replied. _"It means you three got to get the hell out of Dodge. This guy hones in on people who feel guilty. Who does that sound like to you?"_

~/~\~

Dean was standing outside of Neal's Tavern.

"It's been a while," Dean said to himself. "But you owe yourself. It's nothing but a ground ball—you just got to put your mitt down. You are Dean Winchester. This is what you do."

Dean's phone rang and he took it out of his pocket. Suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind and his phone fell to the ground.

* * *


	8. Defending Your Life Part 2

Sam and Angela walked out of the barn, worry evident on their faces. Sam had his phone to his ear.

"Dude, third message," Sam said. "You better not be loaded. Call me. This is important." He added before hanging up.

Angela looked up at him and took his hand in hers. Sam's phone rang and he answered it quickly.

"Dean." He sighed. "About time, man. I—

" _Uh, hello?"_ Mia's voice rang through.

Sam frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

" _Oh, well, I just…I picked this off the ground, where I've been standing for 10 minutes listening to it right,"_ Mia replied. _"Is this Dean's phone?"_

"Yeah," Sam replied.

" _Well…He was supposed to meet me here,"_ Mia said.

"Where are you?" Sam asked. "We can be right here."

~/~\~

"Uh, here it is," Mia said, handing Sam the phone. "Uh, well, I hope he's okay."

"Now, where exactly did you find this phone?" Sam asked.

"Uh…There." She pointed.

"Thank you," Angela replied, walking over to the spot Mia had indicated. "Sammy…Red dirt."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela entered the barn holding their guns. In a separate part of the barn, Dean was chained to a chair in a room that contained an ornate throne and Egyptian statues.

"Really, Warren?" Dean muttered as he struggled against the chains. "All you noticed were the symbols?"

Suddenly, Osiris appeared on the throne. "Quit squirming, Mr. Winchester," he warned. "They're Houdini-proof. Now, you want to talk charges, or…"

"I'd rather talk about your Bukowski schtick at the bar!" Dean snapped. "What, you can't jump a guy when he's sober?"

"You and that waitress had quite a talk, huh?" Osiris commented. "Get a couple drinks in you, and the guilt comes pouring out."

"Oh, eavesdropping—that's cute." Dean scoffed.

"Speaking of…You two gonna skulk there all night?" Osiris asked.

The door to the room slid open by itself, revealing Sam and Angela. Dean turned his head slightly, trying to look at them.

"Sam? Angie?" Dean asked.

"Nice job finding us." Osiris complimented. "I assume you two have figured out who I am as well?"

"Yeah," Angela replied as they walked towards Dean.

Dean looked up at the couple. "You want to fill me in?"

"Osiris," Angela replied. "He's an Egyptian God."

"Ta-da!" Osiris grinned. "Now, go about your business, you two."

Sam squared his shoulders. "Look, if anyone should be on trial, it's me."

"That's for me to decide." Osiris countered. "Now go away."

"But, he—he had the right to an attorney," Sam replied. "Doesn't he?"

Osiris looked slightly surprised. "Huh."

"Let me defend him," Sam replied.

"Well, that's unusual," Osiris admitted.

"Are you gonna respect his rights or not?" Sam questioned.

"Why not?" Osiris smiled.

Sam took a seat next to Dean and Angela sat next to Sam.

"Uh, Sam? You're not a Lawyer." Dean whispered.

Sam shrugged. "I was pre-law."

"Yeah, _pre_." Dean retorted.

"Alright, then," Osiris started. "Now, the list of witnesses I can call—endless."

"Objection!" Sam exclaimed.

Osiris raised his brows. "Are you gonna let me finish my sentence, Sam?"

"No. This isn't fair." Sam replied.

"Fair?" Osiris scoffed. "I'm sorry. Moving on. I can make it very simple. Three witnesses."

"Objection!" Sam exclaimed again.

"Grounds?" Osiris asked.

"Witness is being called without prior notice," Sam replied confidently.

"Good one." Angela murmured.

"I saw that on _The Good Wife_ ," Sam admitted.

"Yes. Very fine objection." Osiris cut in. "Denied!"

Sam's face scrunched up in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Because, I'm the judge, son," Osiris smirked. "Now stop objecting, or I'll find you in contempt—that is, _kill you._ So, I advise you to let me move it along. The prosecution calls Joanna Beth Harvelle to the stand." He added, causing Jo's ghost to appear.

Dean frowned. "Jo?"

"Dean. Sam. Angie." Jo smiled softly. "Long time."

Osiris beckoned and Jo took a seat near his throne. "State your name for the court."

"Jo Harvelle." She stated.

"And…what is your relationship to Dean Winchester?" Osiris asked.

"We worked together," Jo answered.

"Isn't it true that you admired him?"

"Well, as hunter…yeah," Jo replied. "As a guy, he was kind of a jerk."

Dean frowned, looking slightly hurt by the comment.

"So, you saw him as a mentor of sorts?" Osiris asked.

"I wouldn't put it like that," Jo replied.

Osiris raised his brows. "How would you put it?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I trusted him. So, if you're trying to say that he was a bad guy or something—

"Was it hard?" Osiris cut her off.

"What?" Jo's brows furrowed.

"Working with him…considering your feelings," Osiris said obviously.

"No," Jo replied quickly. "What feelings?"

"You would have done quite a bit for him—followed him into any battle," Osiris commented.

Jo clenched her jaw. "I know what you're getting at, and it's bull."

"So, Dean had nothing to do with your first case, the one that started it all," Osiris replied.

"It wasn't like that," Jo assured.

"No feelings. None at all." Osiris replied. "You would have chosen the same exact road. Ended up in that hardware store, holding the fuse."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, you're a piece of work. You know that? Putting words in her mouth—

Osiris gestured towards Dean and Dean gulped. "Keep him under control…Or I'll remove his tongue." He warned Sam and Angela. He gestured again and Dean drew in a deep breath. "Your witness."

Angela squeezed Sam's hand reassuringly as he got up. Sam walked towards Jo and folded his arm.

"Jo," Sam started. "So, um…your dad…was in the life?"

"Yes, he was." Jo nodded.

"And your relationship with him?" Sam asked.

"Good," Jo replied. "I mean…"

"You idolized him," Sam commented.

"Basically." Jo nodded.

"So, why'd you start?" Sam asked. "To impress some loudmouth ass you just met…or 'cause you wanted to be like your dad?"

"Daddy issues. Definitely." Jo replied. "Listen, Dean, I don't—

Osiris flicked his hand, and Jo's ghost disappeared. "Alright. You three can have a moment to strategize." He smirked. "And then I'll call my next witness." He looked directly at Dean.

Sam went and sat down next to Dean and Angela.

"Alright," Angela whispered. "Who's the next witness? He looked at you like you'd know."

"I got no clue." Dean shrugged. "This whole thing's like a friggin' episode of _Pee-Wee's Playhouse_."

"Next witness!" Osiris exclaimed. "The prosecution calls…Sam Winchester to the stand." He added, gesturing to the witness's chair. Sam swallowed nervously and went to sit down. "Sam…Not exactly the life you expected, is it?"

Sam shrugged. "Details a little different."

"For a while there, you were gonna be a real Lawyer," Osiris replied. "Marry Jess."

Sam chuckled slightly. "Yeah, that was a long time ago."

"But, were you or were you no happily out of the family racket until Dean showed back up in that gas-guzzler?" Osiris questioned. Sam opened his mouth but Osiris stopped him. "Ah-ah. The truth, now."

Sam sighed. "It's complicated."

"That one act had quite a domino effect," Osiris replied. "Come back, your girl's dead."

"Well, that wasn't his fault," Sam said.

"Sure, and neither is everything that came after—all the death and the blood and hanging on by a thread," Osiris explained. "None of that is on Dean, directly. But, don't you think that your brother dragged you back into that catastrophic mess because he'd rather damn you with him than be alone?"

There was a long paused and Sam pursed his lips.

"No." Sam finally said. "One way or another, I'd have gotten pulled back in."

Osiris raised his brows. "You know that for certain?"

"Pretty sure." Sam nodded.

"Pretty sure," Osiris repeated.

"I'm positive," Sam replied.

Osiris held his hands up. "I believe you. Hey, if it was about convincing me, I would say…"

"What?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"I don't decide anything, Sam." Osiris shrugged. "I don't decide Dean's guilt. I just weigh the guilt that's already there. This is solely about how Dean feels, way down deep. Them's the breaks."

"Wait," Angela cut in. "So, if Dean believes he's innocent, then he is?"

Osiris looked at Angela. "If. A big if." He nodded. "Why do I bring up the past? To see if he feels like dog food about it. People want to be judged. They really do. When your heart's heavy, let me tell you, real punishment's a mercy."

"I want to call Dean to the stand," Sam said suddenly.

"Oh, you do, now?" Osiris scoffed. "This is an order to this stuff, you know." He added, causing Sam to just stare at him intensely. "Okay. I'll allow it."

Osiris snapped his fingers and Dean's chains fell away. Sam stood up and Dean sat in the chair.

"So, Dean," Sam started. "When you came and got me, did you know Jess would die? Or any of it?"

"'Course not," Dean replied.

"Right. How could you?" Sam asked. "I mean, are you psychic?" he added, frowning when there was silence. "That's a question."

"No," Dean shook his head. "Uh, definitely not psychic."

"Great. So why would you feel guilty at not predicting the future?"

"Yeah, I guess that doesn't make any sense." Dean agreed. "Actually, yeah, no, I don't."

"Plus, if you never came to Stanford, I never would have met Angie," Sam continued. "Don't get me wrong, I-I loved Jess, but Angie's my soulmate. I had to start hunting again so I could meet her. So, getting back into hunting wasn't all bad, Dean."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Y-yeah, you're right."

"What about Jo? Did you actually kill her?" Angela asked, walking up to the stand.

"Uh, no," Dean replied.

"Isn't it true that you don't feel guilty about her—that you're just…sad she's dead? That it just…blows?" Angela asked.

"Actually…Maybe, yeah." Dean nodded.

"Mm-mm-mm." Osiris hummed. "I like your style. Very engaging."

Sam clenched his jaw slightly. "Dean. Does any of this feel like it's really…on you?"

"Not really," Dean admitted.

"Then is your heart heavy with guilt or just plain heavy and none of this guy's business?" Sam asked.

"Uh, what you said—the second thing."

Sam looked up at Osiris. "Then I rest my case."

"Very good…" Osiris praised. "Alright, because I really enjoyed that, I'm gonna be generous and ask—Dean, do you want me to call my last witness? Or have we had enough?"

Dean sighed heavily, thinking back to when he killed Amy.

Sam's brows furrowed. "What the hell's he talking about?"

"Enough Ally McBealing," Dean replied. "Just drop the hammer, will ya?"

"Wait, Dean, he's giving us more time!" Angela argued.

"It's not gonna make a difference!" Dean snapped.

"You need another moment? You done?" Osiris asked. He banged his staff three times on the ground. "The court's reached a verdict. I find you, Dean Winchester, guilty in your heart…and sentence you to die. I'd suggest you get your affair is order quickly."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela arrived outside the hotel in the Impala. The area was a crime scene and police officers wheeled away a body on a stretcher.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela entered the motel room and saw the empty chair and broken salt circle.

"Dammit, we told him," Angela sighed."

"Osiris would have got to him one way or another," Dean muttered. "Guy's batting a thousand."

"There's still time," Sam assured. "We can figure something out."

Sam and Angela attempted to make a few calls while Dean researched on the laptop. Sam sighed, pacing the room when suddenly his phone rang.

"Bobby." He greeted. "What do you got?"

" _A way to give Osiris a dirt nap."_ Bobby's voice rang through.

"Good. We need it." Sam replied.

" _Now, as near as I can figure, it ought to put him down for a couple of centuries, at least,"_ Bobby explained. _"It's worked a few times since the Pharaohs were big."_

Sam frowned. "It's temporary?"

" _Long temporary."_ Bobby sighed. _"I say we slap that band-aid on and leave finding a cure to some hunter in a space suit. Now, you're gonna need to stab him with a ram's horn."_

"A ram's horn? Where am I gonna find a ram's horn in Dearborn?" Sam asked.

" _No clue. But make sure it's a sharp piece. He ain't gonna let you stab him twice."_

"Yeah. Thanks." Sam said before hanging up. "Ram's horn. Ah…okay." He added, punching it into the laptop. "Huh. Apparently, uh, Jewish people blow through them once a year."

"Where are we gonna find one this time of night?" Angela asked.

"Uh…synagogue?" Sam suggested.

"You're gonna steal from a temple?" Dean scoffed. "Well, that's a new low."

"You're on death row, Dean," Sam replied seriously. "Quit joking around. Here. Keys. We'll be back."

"The dick's gonna sic Jo after me." Dean retorted.

"You're a hunter, Dean. You know how to deal with ghosts." Angela assured.

Dean sighed and handed Sam the keys. "So, you suggesting I kill her again?"

"You didn't kill her, Dean," Sam replied. "We'll hurry."

Sam and Angela quickly left the hotel room. Dean made a salt circle around himself.

"You can come out now," Dean said.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were looking around the office with their flashlights. Sam saw a ram's horn and picked it up. Suddenly, a Rabbi entered the room and turned on the lights, causing the two hunters to jump in surprise.

"I'm guessing you're not here for bar mitzvah lessons." The Rabbi said.

"Uh…" Angela trailed off.

~/~\~

Jo walked towards the salt circle. "You know I'd never do this."

Dean looked at her, tears in his eyes. "I know."

"I guess it's his thing." She murmured. "Some kind of twisted eye for an eye."

"It's okay," Dean assured.

"No, it's not." Jo shook her head. "You deserve better."

"No, you did. You deserved better, Jo."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela quickly drove down a dark road. Angela carefully held the ram's horn.

~/~\~

"Dean, my life was good. Really." Jo said softly.

"He was right, you know—that dick judge, about me," Dean replied.

"No, he wasn't."

"You were a kid," Dean stressed.

"Not true," Jo replied.

"You and Sam." Dean murmured. "I just—you know, hunters are never kids. I never was. I didn't even stop to think about it."

"It's not your fault," Jo said gently. "It wasn't on you."

"No, but I didn't want to do it alone," Dean admitted. "Who does? No, the right thing would have been to send your ass back home to your mom."

Jo chuckled. "Like to have seen you try. He was right about one thing."

"What, your massive crush on me?" Dean tried to joke.

"Shut up." Jo smiled. "You carry all kinds of crap that you don't have to, Dean. It kinda gets clearer when you're dead."

"Well, in that case, you should be able to see that I am 90 percent…crap," Dean whispered. "I get rid of that, what then?"

"You really want to die not knowing?" Jo asked. She sighed. "Dean."

"Yeah." He murmured.

"It's time," Jo replied sadly. She turned on the burners on the gas stove.

Dean watched and he was taken back to that day in the hardware store. Memories flashed through his mind and he let out a shaky sigh. Jo reappeared almost instantly just outside of Dean's salt circle.

"Come on, Dean." She chided. "I used to hunt ghosts. I know the tricks."

The window glass froze and shattered. Dean sighed and frowned when he could see his breath. Suddenly, a gust of wind came through and broke the salt circle. Dean went to put more salt down but stood up to see Jo next to him.

"He's making me do this," Jo said.

"It's okay," Dean assured softly.

Jo gently took a lighter out of Dean's pocket.

~/~\~

The woman struggled against Osiris's grasp and tried to scream. However, his hand was covering her mouth and he shoved her against her car. Suddenly, Angela came up next to the woman grabbed her as Sam stabbed Osiris with the ram's horn.

"Go, run," Angela told the woman.

The woman just looked at her and sprinted away. Osiris's eyes changed to a blue light and his face cracked as his body fell to the ground.

~/~\~

Jo stroked Dean's cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. The lighter fell to the floor with a thud, and Jo vanished. Dean opened his eyes and looked around.

"Jo?"

~/~\~

The Impala was parked near a river, and the three hunters stood drinking beers next to the Impala. Angela had her arm around Sam's waist and he had an arm around her shoulders.

"So, uh, it seems like…you, like…she, was in pain?" Angela asked.

"No," Dean shook his head. "No, just kind of faded. Regular Jo. Actually, maybe a little happier." He added as he took a sip of his beer. "I got a question. So, where the hell did that come from, volunteering to defend me?" He asked Sam.

"He was gonna kick us out." Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, man—in another life, you uh…you might have made a pretty decent scuzzbag," Dean smirked.

Sam laughed. "I'm 0 for 1, Dean."

"Ah, it's not your fault. You were pretty convincing."

Angela smirked slightly. Gotta admit the lawyer talk _was_ kinda hot, Sammy." She commented, earning a chuckle from her boyfriend. "So, who was he talking about?" She asked Dean.

"Who?" Dean replied.

"That whole final witness thing." Sam clarified.

"No idea." Dean lied. "Honestly, that could be just about anybody dead we know. By the way…I mean, I get why _Judge Judy_ put me on trial—I got guilt coming out of my pores. But…why'd he skip you?"

Sam shrugged. "I think I just don't…feel guilty anymore."

"Come on," Dean scoffed.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you, Dean," Sam replied. "I mean, I've spent a lot of time feeling pretty crappy—like, my whole life."

"What, you got a secret stash of happy pills?" Dean asked.

"Hell," Sam replied bluntly.

Both Dean and Angela looked quizzical.

"Look, I'm not saying it's logical." Sam shrugged. "I just…you know, I feel like I did a lot of stuff I should have felt bad for," he added, looking down at Angela. "And then I paid a lot of dues and came out on the other side, you know?"

"And that worked?" Dean raised his brows. "I mean, you really feel like your…your slate's wiped?"

"No. Nothing ever gets wiped," Sam replied. "You know? Sometimes I see Lucifer when I friggin' brush my teeth, but, I don't know, I guess I just finally feel like…my past is my past, and I can move on with my life. You know, hopefully."

"Easier said than done," Dean muttered.

"Not arguing that," Sam replied with a nod.

"Well, I don't know whether to be, uh, jealous or weirded out," Dean admitted.

"You'll get used to it," Sam assured. "I mean, I don't want to sound lame, but…I feel…good." He added, smiling down at Angela.

Angela leaned up and kissed Sam softly. Dean made a face and got into the Impala. Sam went to follow him, but Angela stopped him.

"Hey," she said, causing Sam to face her. "Getting back into hunting after…Tyler died…was probably the best decision I could have made. I was lost, and confused, and..." She murmured. "I'm so happy that I met you, Sammy."

"I've put you through a lot of crap, Angie." Sam murmured.

Angela shrugged. "Well, love isn't easy. Especially in this life." She replied. "But, like you said, we're soulmates. And I don't plan on letting go of you— _ever._ "

Sam smiled and pulled Angela to him by the belt loops on her jeans. "I don't plan on letting go of you either." He murmured. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Angela grinned. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down so she could kiss him.

Sam wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. Dean honked the horn and the couple jumped apart, their cheeks flushed.

"Can you guys stop being gross so we can get on the road?" Dean asked, poking his head out the window.


	9. Shut Up, Dr. Phil Part 1

Dean was peacefully sleeping in one of the motel beds. He had a beer bottle next to him on the nightstand. Suddenly, he started thrashing and mumbling in his sleep as he dreamt about Castiel, Sam, and Amy. He woke up in a sweat, breathing heavily. He looked over at the other motel bed to see that it was empty. He lied back down and grabbed the beer bottle, sighing when he realized that it was empty as well.

~/~\~

Dean was researching on Sam's laptop and took a drink. He was reading the ' _Prosperity Municipal Archives_ ' and was looking at an article about the death of Wendy Goodson. Dean poured himself another glass of whiskey, emptying the bottle. Sam and Angela jogged past the window and entered the room.

"Somebody better be chasing you two," Dean commented.

"It's good for you," Angela assured.

"No. No, it's _not_ good for you." Dean argued. "Look at you two. You're, you're a mess, and you stink…" He added. "Well, while you two were out being Lance Armstrong…"

Sam grabbed two sports drinks from the refrigerator and handed one to Angela. "That would be biking." He corrected.

"…I was working." Dean finished. "You ever heard of a town called Prosperity, Indiana?"

Angela raised her brows as she sipped her drink. "Has anybody?"

"Two of their finer citizen died over the past two weeks," Dean replied. "Uh, this one chick, she, uh, roasted underneath one of those beehive hair dryers at the salon…" He said, gesturing to his head. "And this other guy boiled in a hot tub."

Sam raised his brows. "You don't see a lot of that." He replied as he sipped from his drink.

"No, you don't," Dean muttered.

"It's worth checking out," Angela added.

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

"You know, one more thing," Sam started, eyeing Dean. "What's going on with you?"

Dean sighed deeply. "We have had this conversation."

"No, we haven't," Angela interjected. "See, to do that, you'd have to sort of…speak."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's see if you can get this straight. See—you're new Sam and Angie, right, Lance Armstrong."

"Biking." Sam cut in.

"And, uh—I'm still me, kay?" Dean continued. "Alright, so—so, you might see things different now, uh, call it a runner's high or some crap—but that doesn't mean something's going on with me, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Sam replied.

"No, don't say, 'yeah, okay' like, 'yeah, okay'." He mimicked.

"Yeah, okay," Sam repeated. "Angie and I are gonna shower real quick."

"Whatever, just… don't do any sex stuff. I'm still right out here." Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela drove down the main street. Wendy Goodson's picture was on the back of a bench advertising her home realty company.

~/~\~

"We're very sorry," Angela said gently. "I-I know this is a tough time to have to talk about this."

Wendy's sister had tears in her eyes. "I've already been through it so many times with the lawyers, the police, the insurance guys."

"Right. I know. I know." Sam replied softly. "We just—we have to conduct our own separate investigation. I'm sorry. I know it's tough. Can I ask you—Did your sister have any enemies?"

The woman's brows furrowed. "Why do you ask that? You think her death wasn't accidental?"

"No, no, no." Angela shook her head. "We just have to consider every possibility. Is there anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"

Wendy's sister shook her head. "You don't live here, so you don't know. Everyone…loved Wendy. She volunteered at the church. She ran a group for kids. I was the big sister, and I looked up to her."

"What about this man who died—Carl Dunlap? Did she know him?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so." Wendy's sister replied.

"Well, Wendy was in real estate, right?" Angela asked. "Carl was an architect. Maybe they had some business dealings?"

"If they had worked together, I would have heard the name." Wendy's sister assured. "Agents…If someone did this to my sister, find out who."

~/~\~

Dean looked around the hair salon. "And nobody was back here but Wendy?"

"No," Chris replied. "But I was only gone for a minute."

Dean eyed the hairdryer. "You can't even crank these things past a certain temperature—am I wrong?"

"If it started to blow a fuse or something, it would have shut down," Chris explained.

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Basically, you're saying that this couldn't have happened."

Chris nodded. "Basically, I'm saying it couldn't have happened."

Dean looked behind the hairdryer frame.

"The insurance adjusters already did that," Chris informed.

"Thanks for the heads up," Dean replied. He frowned when he picked up an old-looking coin.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were walking down the street. Angela had Dean on speaker.

"Wait," Angela started. "What kind of a coin?"

"It's not American." Dean's voice rang through. "I don't know where it's from. It was wedged back behind one of those machines. Somebody could have dropped it. Of course, they don't have pockets in those robe thingies that they make you wear."

Sam laughed. "I didn't realize you were such a spa expert."

"Shut up," Dean replied. "I observe with my eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Sam smirked.

"So, you thinking it must be some kind of hex talisman?" Angela asked.

"Uh, maybe." Dean sighed.

"Alright. Pick us up." Sam replied.

"Why don't you two just run home, Lance?" Dean teased.

Sam sighed. "Dean—

"Yeah, I'll be there in a bit," Dean assured.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela flashed their FBI badges to the police. Sam went inside a portable building and Dean and Angela talked to a policeman outside.

"So, what do we know about the vic?" Dean asked.

"Dewey Stevens—owner, Dewey Stevens Construction, biggest outfit in town." The policeman replied. "Rotarian, Methodist, tenor, blue-ribbon pecan pie champ, asthmatic."

Dean and Angela just stared at the policeman.

"We're a close-knit community." The policeman shrugged.

"So, um, Mr. Stevens was using the restroom before he, um, sprung a few?" Angela asked.

"The crew had gone for the day. The site was shut down." The officer replied.

Dean looked inside the portable toilet and uncovered the body. "Anything unusual besides the nails in the eyes?"

"Well, we're still trying to figure out where they plugged in the nail gun, seeing as there's no generator on the truck."

"Well, when you figure that out, let us know," Angela replied.

Dean frowned when he found a coin. He picked it up and showed Angela before they walked into the building where Sam was. Sam was sitting at a computer.

"So, another victim everybody likes." Dean sighed.

"Not everybody." Sam corrected.

"Another physically impossible death." Angela sighed, leaning against the desk. "You got any ideas?"

"Cirque du Soleil?" Sam shrugged.

"Oh, I, uh, found another one of these," Dean held up the coil. "Just like at the, uh, hairdryer slash brain-roast." He added, handing Sam the coin.

"And I found a connection with all the vics," Sam commented. "Um, these e-mail logs show Wendy, the real estate chick, uh, Carl, the architect, and this Dewey guy were all working on a shopping center project together."

Angela's brows furrowed. "Why didn't we know about that?"

"I—well, it all fell apart for some reason," Sam explained. "I mean, there are these e-mails back and forth, pretty hot and heavy, and suddenly they just stopped."

"So, everybody working on this project has died?" Dean asked.

"Well, not yet," Sam replied. "Um, they were working with a developer, a guy named Don Stark."

Dean frowned. "Don Stark? Why do I know that name?"

~/~\~

A bust of a man stood outside of the town building with a plaque reading ' _Don Stark, Founder of the Prosperity Charity Foundation'_. Posters on the building advertised an art auction run by _The Margaret Stark Charity Foundation_.

"Man, this Stark guy is really plugged in, huh?" Sam asked.

"So, all the players in this—this shopping-center project have either friend, boiled, or kebabbed. He could be next." Dean muttered, taking out his flask.

Sam glanced at the flask and raised a brow. "Really? From a freaking flask? What are you, bad Santa? On the job?"

"We're always on the job." Dean defended.

Angela's phone been. Dean took a drink and Angela checked her phone.

"Alright," she said. "Bobby e-mailed back. I sent him a few pics of those coins you found. He says the writing is Romanian Cyrillic, used only in the mid-15th to the 19th century. Apparently, it's an antique Wallachian ducat."

"So, we're looking for an old Romanian?" Dean asked.

"You know, is it just me, or is this really weird?" Sam asked, looking at the dead plants around the bust.

"Huh," Dean muttered. "I've seen this once before, where t-the plants are all dead in one spot."

"Where?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"A bus with Wendy Goodson's picture on it," Dean replied. "I mean, I'm no expert, but I don't think plants are supposed to act like this."

~/~\~

Don led the three hunters into his office. "If the bureau's involved, I assume you think all three were murdered."

"It's looking that way, yes," Angela replied.

"Now, Mr. Stark, you had a relationship with all three victims, correct?" Sam asked.

Don shrugged. "Oh, I knew them in business circles, I guess, sure."

"And you were all involved in a, uh, a-a shopping-center project," Dean noted. "Why'd that fall through?"

"Uh, t-these things happen," Don replied.

A young blonde woman appeared and knocked on the doorway with a large, bright smile on her face.

"Oh. Jenny. These three are from the FBI," Don gestured to the hunters. "Jenny Klein, my assistant."

"Hi, there." Jenny waved before she turned back to Don. "Okay, Don, I'm off to the cleaner's, and then I'm gonna stop at Beaman, Beaman, and Beaman for the revised contracts."

"Hurry on back," Don replied. "You know how things fall apart without you."

Jenny laughed. "Oh, I baked you some cupcakes—coconut."

Don smirked. "Coconut—you're too good to me, Jenny." He replied with a wink.

Jenny briskly walked off and Sam, Dean, and Angela were staring at Don. Don frowned at their stares.

"She bakes cupcakes." He shrugged.

"Yummy." Dean smiled.

"You know, could you point me to the restroom?" Sam asked. "I had a little bit too much java."

"Yeah, around the corner, down the hall." Don pointed.

Sam smiled in thanks and left the room.

"So, in cases like these—" Dean said from the other room.

"Are these cases like these?" Don asked.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Angela replied. "Uh, we start out with the basics."

Sam looked around cautiously before he ran up the stairwell.

"Do you have any business rivals?" Angela asked.

"Sure, tons." Don shrugged. "You know, real estate's brutal."

"Well, that was easy," Dean replied.

"On the other hand, I've demonstrated my love for this town, and I think it's safe to say I'm respected for what I've done here," Don added.

Sam entered the master bedroom and looked around before he made his way to the walk-in closet. He frowned when he discovered that half of the closet was empty. On the shelf, he found a broken high heel, a necklace with a five-pointed star pendant, and a box containing witchcraft materials.

Don, Dean, and Angela were looking at one of Don's framed awards. Done smiled at it.

"Yeah, one of my real treasures," Don muttered.

Dean looked at a framed picture of an office tower and read the inscription. "To Don—take no prisoners. D. Trump." Dean read. "The Trumpster! Wow!"

"Like I said, success breeds fierce competition…" Don started as Sam reappeared. "But in the end, everyone here respects and admires me."

"Including your wife?" Sam asked.

Dean, Angela, and Don looked at Sam quizzically.

"Sorry," Sam added. "It's just, we heard the two of you were splitting up, right?"

"Yeah, uh, that's what we heard." Angela agreed.

Don sighed. "Yeah, Maggie and I are going through a tough time. It's a separation—temporary. Sometimes, you know, you grow apart. It's no one's fault."

"And how would you describe the, uh—the issues between you and your wife?" Sam asked curiously.

"It's just one of those marital misunderstandings, you know." Don shrugged.

"Care to explain it to us, Mr. Stark?" Angela asked.

"It's one of those vague, hard-to-define passages," Don replied vaguely.

"She caught you cheating, huh?" Dean asked. "I couldn't help but notice, uh, things were kind of cordial between you and your assistant. Pretty good with the ladies there, Mr. Stark? It's a blessing and a curse, isn't it?"

"Guys, I'm a people person," Don defended. "And I admire dynamic, confident women."

"Admire?" Angela raised a brow.

Don sighed deeply. "Okay, look—it's true I had a recent…little thing with a business associate, but that's all it was."

"A 'thing'?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Like a—like a shoe or a golf club," Sam commented.

"Right. Like a waffle iron." Dean nodded.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Yeah," Angela sighed. "See, Don, uh, wives and significant others generally think of an affair as something more than a thing."

"Yes, and when Maggie found out about it, she needed some time off, temporarily," Don explained.

"Hmm." Dean hummed. "Now, if we were to guess that the, uh, uh, business associate was Wendy Goodson, would we win the weekend trip to Maui?"

Don shook his head. "No, her death had nothing to do with the affair. It was over long before her accident."

"If it was an accident," Dean noted.

Don's brows furrowed. "You're not implying that Maggie was behind this."

"No, we're not implying anything," Sam assured. "We're just saying…you should be careful."

"And take her to dinner and apologize," Angela added.

"Yeah, and, uh, grovel. Wouldn't hurt." Dean shrugged.

The three hunters left the Starks' house.

"Found a bunch of hex junk in their stuff—clearly her thing," Sam noted. "And the empty closer didn't seem like she was coming back anytime soon."

Angela noticed more dead plants near the front of the house.

"So, Don admires Wendy biblically, Wendy dies weird, and the scorned wife is into the dark stuff," Dean said.

"While Don's just in the dark." Angela sighed.

"Hmm," Dean smirked. "It's kind of like Bewitched. You know, Don't Darrin, doesn't even know it. A lot of laughs until, uh, you cheat on your wife."

"A Bewitched reference." Sam scoffed. "Really?"

"Dude, Nicole Kidman was in the remake. Redhead." Dean defended. "Hello!"

Angela looked around. "Look at all these dead plants."

"Huh. It's kind of like the real-estate lady's place and Don's statue thing." Dean noted.

"You know, if she's strong enough, just being pissed off is enough to send some pretty bad vibes their way," Sam commented.

"Literally kill off everything around her just by PMS-ing at it. Eeh. That's not creepy at all." Dean muttered as he pulled out his phone and dialed. "Bobby, hey, it's Dean. Listen…Winchester." Dean frowned. "Yeah, very funny. So, we need our kind of Terminix. A witch. Yeah, we're headed over to her place to get you some more specifics, so if you could just, uh—y—thank…" Dean hung up and frowned. "He's on it."

~/~\~

Sam opened the trunk of the Impala. A sign outside of the house said, 'For Lease: Furnished Executive Home'. Above it, another sign said, 'Leased'. Angela took out her cellphone and made a call.

~/~\~

Dean let himself inside the house, which was filled with moving boxes. He went up to the master bedroom and discovered a witch altar in the closet. On the altar were witchcraft materials and pictures of the victims marked with symbols in blood. Dean took the unmarked picture of Jenny and grabbed her library card.

"Don, keep it in your pants, man." He mumbled.

~/~\~

A nice car with the license plate _'STARK 2'_ pulled into the driveway. Angela frowned and nudged Sam before she made a call.

"All circuits are busy." The automated voice said.

Sam closed the trunk of the Impala and ran to intercept Maggie Stark, Angela hot on his heels.

"Mrs. Stark!" Sam called as the couple flashed their badges. "Could we have a moment?"

"Of course," Maggie nodded. "Um, would you mind coming back in, say, a half an hour? It's just a really bad time right now."

"It's very important that we talk to you," Angela stressed.

"Of course, and I'm happy to," Maggie assured. "I'm just in the middle of an emergency, so please come back. Thank you!" she added as she walked away.

"Crap," Angela muttered.

Sam pushed hard on Maggie's car and set off the alarm, causing the woman to turn and look at the car. In the house, Dean heard the alarm and closed the closet door. Maggie turned the alarm off with her keys. Dean appeared in the window and frowned. Sam moved his leg several times and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry—uh, restless leg syndrome," Sam explained.

Maggie rolled her eyes and entered the house as Dean hid behind a wall. As she walked into another room, Dean darted out the front door and met Sam and Angela at the front gates.

"Spoiler alert," Dean started, handing the picture of Jenny and the library card to Sam. "Jenny Klein's next. Swiped her photo off a hex deck, but Maggie's gonna notice it's gone eventually. We got to get over to Jenny's."

~/~\~

Jenny took a bite out of the pink frosted cupcake and hummed contently. She frowned when she noticed blood running down her arm from the cupcake she was holding. Her eyes went wide when she saw that there was a beating heart inside the cupcake. Jenny choked and dropped the dessert, the heart continuing to beat. Jenny coughed up blood into the sink and there was a knocking on the door. Angela managed to break through the door.

"Find the coin, now!" Angela instructed as she ran over to Jenny.

Angela gently helped Jenny sit on the floor while Sam and Dean looked through cupboards and cabinets.

"Come on, guys!" Angela exclaimed.

Sam found the coin on top of one of the cupboards. He placed in on the counter and Dean took out his gun. Dean shot at the coin as Angela shielded Jenny.


	10. Shut Up, Dr. Phil Part 2

Jenny was lying down on the sofa. Sam, Dean, and Angela watched her from near the kitchen.

"There were _tiny beating hearts_ in my cupcakes," Jenny muttered. "There were _hearts_ in my cupcakes, _hearts in my cupcakes!_ " she repeated, becoming hysterical. "That's never happened before! _Hearts in my cupcakes!_ "

Dean sighed. "Should I slug her?"

"Give it a second," Angela replied.

Jenny calmed down and looked at the hunters. "Oh, my God. What just happened?"

"You were hexed," Sam replied.

Jenny's brows furrowed. " _Hexed?_ Who are you people? What the hell do I do?"

"What you do is you go in there and you pack a bag, you in get in your car, and you go," Dean instructed.

"Go where?" she frowned.

"It doesn't matter. Look, 500 or 600 miles should do it." Angela replied.

"You got someone real powerful, real pissed, and they're trying to get rid of you now," Sam added. "In line with that, you might want to cool things with Don Stark."

Jenny looked confused. "Don Stark? What are you talking about?"

"You and Don. You know." Dean replied suggestively.

"You know? There's no 'you know'." Jenny replied.

"No?" Sam raised his brows.

"Don Stark is my _boss._ That's it." She stressed. "He'd married, for God's sakes."

"Yeah, well…" Dean trailed off.

"Me and Don Stark." Jenny scoffed. Ew!"

~/~\~

Don exited the building and looked at the dead plants around the base of the bust. As he watched and the Impala pulled up, the bust started to shake and the head cracked in two, the face falling to the ground. Maggie watched from the window and Don got into his car.

"Now she's just getting nasty," Dean commented. "Killing the girlfriend is one thing, but his commemorative bust? That's got to hurt."

"She'll take the whole town out, guys." Angela sighed. "She doesn't care who gets in the way."

Dean's phone rang and he quickly answered it. "Hey, Bobby. What do you got? Yeah? You think it'll take her out?" he asked. "Alright. No, I don't need to write it down. I'll remember. Go ahead." He assured. "Mm-hmm. The—wait. Hang on. Hang on." He gestured to Sam. "Yeah? Wait. Wa—ho—ho—hold on. Hold on. Hold on."

Sam handed over a diner menu and a pen.

"Okay, what was the, uh—what was that last one?" Dean asked. "Right. Uh-huh. I'll remember. It's fine."

~/~\~

Dean was sitting at the kitchenette table in the motel, about to take a bite from a pie. Sam and Angela entered.

"Guys. Pie." Dean grinned excitedly.

Sam set a plastic bag down right next to the pie. Dean cringed.

"Ugh." Dean groaned. "That is—

"Chicken feet," Sam replied. "Just like the recipe calls for. Butcher's fridge is down."

"I can smell that." Dean pointed at the bag.

"Uh, says the power's been wonky and that he's lost so much product, he probably won't make rent," Sam explained.

"Ditto every shop on the block—nothing but burst pipes and blackouts," Angela added.

"Huh," Dean muttered.

"He says it's like all of a sudden, the town ran out of luck," Sam noted.

"So, coincidence, right?" Dean raised his brows. He picked up the bag of chicken feet and walked over to Sam and Angela.

"Uh…yeah," Angela replied. "We're past the point of dead flowers."

"What can I say?" Dean sighed. "I guess the witch is pissed. Alright, let's, uh—we better get a move on here. Why don't you just…" he held the bag out at arm's length. "C-can you take the feet?"

Sam held out a bowl and Dean dropped the bag into it. "Ugh," Sam muttered.

Angela wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Gross."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up in the Impala and saw flashing police and ambulance lights.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela showed their badges to an officer at the door and entered the art auction room. They saw a pool of blood and Sue's covered body.

"Whoa," Dean said. "Clean-up on aisle seven."

"Okay, I don't think she'd do this to her own auction," Angela noted.

"No, obviously it was someone who hated her guys and wanted her party trashed," Dean replied.

Sam pursed his lips. "Don Stark."

~/~\~

The three hunters exited the building and walked towards the Impala.

"So, the mister's a witch, himself," Dean commented. "That means we got not just one pissed-off witch. We've got two. It's full-on _War of the Roses_."

" _Bewitched_ just got a lot less funny," Angela added.

"It's like when they switched Darrins," Dean replied.

The three got into the Impala and drove off. Chet watched them carefully from a parked vehicle nearby.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting in the Impala outside of the Stark house.

"Where is she?" Sam asked.

"She'll be here," Dean assured. "They've been throwing thunderbolts at each other's favorite toys. There's nothing left to destroy but each other. This is basically ground zero."

"I hope so." Angela sighed. "We're gonna need them both in the same place if we're gonna take them down."

Dean noticed Maggie's vehicle approaching. "Screens up, Captain."

The three hunters leaned down in their seats, so they couldn't be seen.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela heard fighting in the house and took that as their cue to go inside. Don and Maggie turned around as the door opened, revealing the hunters. Dean held a large bowl.

"Furor divina virtute in infernum eam detrude!" Angela chanted.

Sam lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. White smoke and steam rose, but other than that nothing happened.

"Let me guess—chicken feet?" Maggie asked. "Not chilled?"

Don sighed. "For obvious reasons, you won't be leaving this room." He added as he set his glass down and stood next to Maggie. "Well, you will be leaving—just not alive. Maggie?"

Don and Maggie raised their arms and started chanting in unison. "Puterea magiei negre…"

"Okay, plan B," Sam muttered.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What's plan B?"

"Talking," Sam replied.

"La suferinta…" Don and Maggie continued.

"Now? Really?" Dean scoffed.

"This is obviously a domestic dispute." Sam shrugged. "So, if you can't kill them, counsel them."

"Yeah. You know what? Not my area!" Dean snapped.

"Well, it's the only option we got, Dean," Angela replied.

"Supune-te ordinelor mele—

"Okay, okay, okay. Uh…" Dean cut in, setting the bowl down on a nearby chair. "Look—obviously, you two are capable of wiping each other out, right? But you haven't, huh?" Dean raised his brows. "Which means that you two—still value whatever it is you got. A-and you want to keep that dance going. Maybe it's—maybe it's punishment. Maybe it's—it's sick, messed-up, erotic, kinky, clamps and feathers kind of love."

"Okay, okay, that's—that's going way too deep, Dean." Angela stopped him.

"Look, what he's trying to say is that—is that you two—whatever it is, you're bonded," Sam noted.

"Are you out of your mind?" Maggie scoffed. "He cheated on me, humiliated me!"

"We're not trying to say what Don did was right," Sam assured. "When a relationship cracks, usually both parties have a hand in it."

"Indeed." Don agreed.

"You're defending him?!" Maggie exclaimed. She reached out an arm towards Sam, who fell to the ground in pain.

"Whoa! Okay, okay!" Dean cut in. "Okay, look—n-nobody can defend Don. Right? Uh, totally. But, uh, we get that you feel betrayed…because you were."

Don rolled his eyes. "Don't suck up to her." He replied as he sent Dean flying backward into a glass door.

"God, you two are terrible at marriage counseling," Angela muttered to herself.

"I was betrayed by all of them!" Maggie yelled at Don. "Carl introduced you to Wendy. Dewey covered for you. Wendy did you!"

Sam slowly got up. "Okay, okay, look…I got to say I-I don't think Don was lying when he said he regrets the whole Wendy thing."

"Oh, God, Sammy… _awful_ word choice." Angela hissed.

"Thing?!" Maggie exclaimed. "Sit down." She said, waving her hand and causing Sam to fall to the ground again.

Sam groaned. "Yeah, affair—that's right, terrible."

"I think the only thing he regrets is getting caught." Maggie snarled at her husband.

"Wendy was nothing to me. It was over as soon as it started." Don assured.

Angela slowly walked towards the couple, and they turned to look at her angrily. Angela held up her hands slightly. "I-I just wanna say…Maggie, I've been cheated on." She said softly. "And it sucks, it does, I know."

Maggie relaxed slightly. "And how did you deal with it?"

"I was angry," Angela replied. "I was angry for the longest time. But Sam, h-he's right, it takes two for a relationship to crack. Just like it takes two for a relationship to thrive. I know the emotional toll it takes…to see the person you love with someone else. It hurts more than anything. And sometimes you lash out."

Maggie glanced at Don and then looked back at Angela. "Did you take him back?"

"We found a way back to each other," Angela corrected. "He acknowledged that what he had done was wrong, and he worked day and night to make it up to me, even though I was being stubborn and wouldn't listen. But he never quit. Because there are those relationships that you never, ever stop fighting for, Maggie. The life we live, it isn't easy, but we are happier than we've ever been. And I love him more than anything. Don't throw away what you have with Don because of a mistake. Work to fix it."

Maggie looked at Don and Don walked towards her.

"I made a mistake." He whispered. "I'm sorry, Maggie."

Maggie smiled softly and kissed Don, forgiving him.

Sam got to his feet and smiled. He gently pulled Angela to his side, wrapping an arm around her.

Dean stood up and leaned against the wall. "Well, I'm glad all it took was Angie stepping in. Could have avoided the nuking that my melon just took."

Maggie flicked her wrist to slam Dean against the wall. Don raised an arm and surrounded Dean's head with bees.

"Nice touch," Maggie smirked.

"Thank you." Don smiled.

Dean inhaled and spit out a bee. Maggie laughed.

"I could never kill you, Maggie." Don murmured. "All I ever wanted it you, Mags. I've been crushing on you since forever. You're the woman that I want to never grow old with."

"I could never murder you either, Don. It's crazy…But true." Maggie smiled before kissing him again.

"Somebody want to call these things off?" Dean asked. "Ex—excuse me!"

~/~\~

Sam was driving the Impala and Angela sat next to him while Dean slept in the backseat.

"Your conversation with Maggie…it really got through to her," Sam noted.

"Yeah. Sorry for bringing that up again." Angela replied. "I figured it would help if she had someone to relate to."

"No, no, don't apologize. Clearly Dean and I aren't cut out for counseling." Sam smiled slightly.

"I meant what I said, though. It takes two for a relationship to crack." Angela sighed. "And back then, I-I probably wasn't as emotionally present as I should have been."

Sam shook his head. "Angie, no—

"Sam, I was a _mess_ after Dean died. But, you're his brother and I should have been there more than I was." Angela interrupted.

Sam sighed, deciding it was best not to argue. "I'm just glad that we got another chance, that you gave me another chance. And _another_ one after I had been soulless and everything."

Angela scooted closer to Sam and smiled. "What can I say, I'm never letting you go, Sammy. And you're never getting rid of me."

Sam grinned down at Angela. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela entered their motel room. Dean set down his bag and took out his flask, taking a drink from it. Angels eyed him and Sam just raised his brows.

Dean noticed their looks and rolled his eyes. "Oh, give me a break."

"We didn't say anything." Angela defended.

"It's been a long day," Dean muttered.

"And it's not over yet," Chet said suddenly.

The three hunters spun around and Dean drew his gun.

"Hi, Sam. Hi, Dean." He greeted the brothers. "Hey, Angela." He added, looking at Angela.

"Do we know you?" Sam frowned.

"Well, I definitely know you," Chet replied. "You're the dead guys. Well, you will be a minute."

Dean shot Chet in the chest and black liquid started oozing from the wound as the bullet popped out. The three hunters looked equally confused.

"Sorry. You're a bit outmatched." Chet smirked.

Chet punched Dean, sending him sprawling to the floor. Sam stepped in front of Angela and Chet punched Sam, sending him across the room. Chet grabbed Angela by the throat and choked her. She gasped for air and clawed at his hands. Suddenly, Chet fell to the ground, electrocuted. Angela's hands flew to her throat and she breathed heavily. Don stood in the doorway and the brothers got up.

Sam walked over to Angela, worry evident on his face. "Are you okay, Angie?"

Angela nodded and hugged Sam tightly. "I'm good."

"Don." Dean greeted. "Well, thank you. We owe you."

"Good God." Don stared at Chet. "What is that thing?"

"I guess we should be figuring that out." Sam sighed.

"It is on our to-do list," Dean added.

"You know, find a bottomless pit and drop it in. Spell only lasts for a few days." Don warned. He walked to the beds and felt around under a mattress.

"Uh, what are you even doing here?" Angela asked.

"Apparently, saving your lives—twice." Don held up a coin. "Got it."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Maggie? Seriously?"

Don felt around under the second mattress.

"She was gonna kill us?" Dean asked. "We just saved your damn marriage!"

Don held up another coin. "Yeah, but to be fair, you also tried to kill her." He replied as he stood up. "You know how she is when she gets a bug up her ass. Got to love her, right?" he smiled. "Right. Bottomless pit. Ciao!" he added before he left.

~/~\~

Sam closed the rear passenger-side door of the Impala. Chet was chained and in the backseat.

"Yeah, he's ready for transport," Dean said into the phone. "I just hope you got someplace you can put him, Bobby. Alright." He hung up and put his bag in the trunk. "We should hit the road. You two ready?" Dean walked to the driver's side.

"Hey, were you, um, were you listening to the Starks tonight?" Sam asked.

"Uh, a little, when I wasn't getting slammed into a wall or stung by bees," Dean replied.

"You notice how they, uh, you know, opened up?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah. Kudos on selling them that crap." Dean nodded.

"It wasn't crap, Dean. It worked." Sam sighed.

"Sam, I am so, very, very, very, very…very, very tired—

"Dean, like it or not, the stuff you don't talk about doesn't just go away," Angela commented. "It builds up, like whatever's eating at you right now."

"There's _always_ something eating at me," Dean muttered. "That's who I am. Something happens, I feel responsible, alright? The Lindbergh baby—that's on me. Unemployment—my bad."

Sam sighed, frustrated. "That's not what we're talking about."

"Well, then, what the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"About whatever you're not telling us!" Sam replied. "Look, Dean, it's fine. You can unload. That's kind of what we're here for."

Dean just looked at the couple.

"I mean…we're good, right? You and Angie are good?" Sam asked.

"We're good," Dean replied before he got into the car.

Sam stood next to Angela for a moment looking somewhat hurt and frustrated. Angela sighed softly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. She slid into the front seat and Sam followed, putting her in the middle before they quickly drove away.


	11. Slash Fiction Part 1

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked down the stairs of Rufus's cabin to see Chet chained to a chair.

Chet grinned. "And how are my three favorite meat-sicles?"

"Is he still sucking air?" Dean glared.

"Greatest hits didn't do the trick." Bobby sighed. "I'm down to B-sides and deep cuts."

"Well, you better figure out something quick," Dean replied. "That whammy that witch dude put on him is only gonna last for a few days. He gets his spinach back, we're gonna end up having to drop a car on him just to stop him."

"Actually…Edgar walked away from that car." Chet cut in. "He's fine. Well, he is a little pissed at you, but—Oh. You didn't know?"

Dean glared at Chet. "Why don't you shut your cake-trap?"

"Ooh." Chet mocked fear.

"Bobby…You've been using all this stuff and he still won't talk?" Angela asked with a frown.

Bobby just shook his head. Dean pulled up a stool and sat close to Chet.

Chet looked up at Dean. "Huddle over, coach?"

"How'd you find us?" Dean asked, getting straight to the point.

"It was easy." Chet shrugged. "I used pattern-recognition software and a basic heuristic algorithm to track your known aliases."

"Great." Bobby scoffed. "Just what we need—a Mensa monster."

Dean got up and walked over to stand near Sam and Angela.

"Alright," Sam started. "Let's just start with the start. Where'd you get our aliases?"

"From your trench-coated friend, obviously," Chet replied. "When we were all nestled in at Camp Cas, kind of got the full download. That's just how we do."

Bobby's brows furrowed. "So why are you talking to us, Chet? You're not dumb. Why you spilling state secrets?"

"'Cause I'm not scared of you. You can't stop me." Chet smirked. "You can't stop any of us. We can't be killed, you stupid little chew toys." He added. "You are aware that I'm the least of your concerns, right?" he asked, taking in their confused faces. "Oh. You haven't watched the news today, have you?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Bobby were watching the news on TV.

" _The two men and one woman, who up until today were presumed dead, locked the doors and opened fire, leaving no survivors._ " The reporter said. " _Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, and Angela Morgan are now the subjects of a manhunt throughout the state of California._ "

The TV cut to security footage of Sam, Dean, and Angela shooting up the bank. Bobby turned off the TV and raised his brows.

"Busy morning, you three?" Bobby asked.

Dean stood with his arms crossed. "Those sons of bitches Xeroxed us."

"But I don't understand how." Angela sighed.

"I don't know," Bobby replied as he took a beer out of the fridge. "Maybe one of 'em touched you at the hospital."

"It was the hair!" Chet yelled from downstairs. "Not too hard to lift some DNA out of a motel shower drain, guys!"

Dean frowned and looked at Bobby. "You can copy people like that?" he asked quietly, earning a shrug from the older hunter. "Awesome. Well, what is their plan, exactly?"

"Squeeze us," Sam replied. "Turn us into the most wanted people in America."

"Alright. Well, that settles it." Dean said. "We find these ass monkeys, and we kill them ourselves."

"Wait a sec," Bobby stopped him. "Every form of law enforcement in the country has seen your ugly mugs this morning."

"Exactly." Dean shrugged. "So, what's the point in trying to hide?"

"Better than sticking your fool neck out," Bobby replied. "These things are smarter than you!"

"Geez, Bobby, don't sugarcoat it," Angela muttered.

"You don't have a clue how to kill 'em or slow 'em down, and your plan is, what?" Bobby continued. "Go right at 'em? Genius."

"They're wearing our faces, Bobby. This is personal." Dean defended.

"Yeah, I'm with Dean here." Sam agreed.

Bobby looked at Angela to be the voice of reason. "Angie?"

Angela sighed deeply. "I gotta agree with the boys, Bobby…"

Bobby sighed. "Well, if you're gonna be stupid, you might as well be smart about it. You need to see a fella named Frank Devereaux."

"Who's he?" Sam asked curiously.

"He's a jackass and a lunatic, but he owes me one, from back in Port Huron," Bobby replied, handing Dean a piece of paper with the address. "In the meantime, I'll keep working on Chatty Cathy here, see if I can figure out what makes him die."

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up to one of the pumps at the gas station and the three hunters got out.

"The usual?" Angela asked Dean.

"Rhymes with sing-songs," Dean replied as he grabbed the pump.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked up to the front counter with their items. Angela set down a box of 'Bing Bongs', two bottles of water, and some other items.

"You guys sell protein bars?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." The clerk nodded before he took a long look at their faces. "But it's in—it's in the back, though. Just, uh, give me a second."

Angela smiled politely.

"Sure. Thanks." Sam replied.

The clerk took out his cellphone as he walked to the back room. Sam and Angela see the security footage from the bank on the TV behind the counter.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela briskly walked out of the convenience store as Dean was filling the tank.

"Pretty sure the cashier just made us," Angela said. "Drive."

Dean put the pump back and they piled into the Impala. Dean tore out of the gas station, tires squealing.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela drove up to Frank's house in the Impala and got out. Dean looked slightly confused.

"You sure this is the right place?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

The three hunters went up to the front door and Sam knocked. They waited for a few beats and no one answered.

"Frank, you in there?" Sam called. "Frank?"

Angela opened the door and they peered inside the pitch-dark house.

"Frank?" Angela called out.

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the house and looked around as they walked through different rooms, all dark.

"Frank?" Sam asked.

"Frank, anybody here?" Angela called out. "Hello? Anybody home?"

Suddenly, someone turned on a lamp, causing the three hunters to turn around. They were met with the sight of Frank sitting in an armchair, pointing a gun at them.

"Well, well," Frank smirked. "Spider caught some flies." He chuckled.

~/~\~

"Well, I'll be darned," Frank commented. "You three are on CNN right now."

"No, no, t-that's not us," Sam assured.

"I know. Can't be. Unless you had a teleporter." Frank laughed. He frowned slightly. "Do you have a teleporter?"

Sam and Dean just shook their heads quietly.

"No, sir," Angela replied. "We don't."

"Well, my condolences on the doppelgangers," Frank noted. "Now, who sent you? NSA? The Feeb? March of Dimes?"

"Uh, Bobby Singer sent us," Dean answered.

Frank growled, got to his feet, and cocked his gun. The three hunters went wide-eyed.

"Or not. Who?" Dean said quickly, holding his hands out placatingly.

"H-he said you could help," Sam interjected. "He said you owed him, from Port Huron."

Frank paused and lowered his weapon. "Guy saves your life _one time_ , and, what, you owe him the rest of yours?"

"That's usually how it works, yeah." Angela nodded.

Frank pointed his weapon at Angela, then lowered it while making an exasperated noise.

~/~\~

Frank started feeding ID cards into a paper shredder. Sam, Dean, and Angela looked at the security footage of their Leviathan doubles, which was playing on several monitors.

"Oh, yeah," Frank started. "I know Bobby's into that magic hooey, but truth is, the government have been cloning people for years. Guess it was just your turn in the barrel."

"Well, actually—

Angela rested a hand on Sam's chest. "Forget it, baby. He's rolling."

"Yours have been busy beavers." Frank continued. "You're number two on the most wanted list. Quickest climb up the charts since Donna Summer."

"So, what do you think we should do?" Sam frowned.

"Cuba's nice this time of year." Frank shrugged.

Dean chuckled. "No, we're not hiding."

Frank looked at Sam and Angela. "Is he always this stupid?"

Dean looked slightly offended. "Look, we, uh…" he started as Frank turned on some classical music. "We got to stick around and kick a couple asses. So, we just need you to get us further off the grid, but keep us on the board."

"Well, the first thing we got to do is wipe all your old aliases," Frank replied. "No more rock shout outs. It's Tom, John, and Jane Smith from now on. And no plastic. Cash only. And change your phones on a…" he explained as he tossed their cellphones. "Very frequent non-schedule schedule, you understand? Oh, and try to stay out of view of the 200 million cameras that the government has access to, 'kay?"

"200 million?" Dean asked.

"Big Brother, has many eyeballs, my friend." Frank nodded. "You see a place that even looks like it can afford security…" he said as he grabbed a laptop from a bag. "You just ease on down the road. This…this is your laptop, right?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah. That's mine." Sam shrugged.

Frank nodded and smashed the laptop against the desk multiple times, destroying it completely.

Sam looked at him with wide, confused eyes. "What—gee—hey—what are you—what the hell was that?!"

Frank smiled and handed Sam a new laptop.

Sam took it, still confused. "Uh…Thank you, I guess."

"No problem," Frank replied. "You owe me five grand, cash."

"What?!" the three hunters asked.

"Unless you wanna go comparison shopping at the mall, sweet cheeks. Say hi to the cops for me." He sassed. "Okay," he grabbed Dean by the jacket and pushed him against the wall. "Let's Blue Steel you up some new ID, Mister…" he took a picture of Dean. "Mister…" he took a picture of Sam. "And Miss Smith." He took a picture of Angela.

~/~\~

Frank tossed passports and IDs in the names of Thomas, John, and Jane Smith into a cigar box that Dean was holding. He handed Sam a map.

"I marked all the towns your stunt doubles hit so you can see the pattern," Frank noted.

"Alright, great." Sam looked at the map. "Uh, so, what is the pattern?"

"No clue, man." Frank shrugged. "I can't see it."

Angela peered at the map. "Seems random."

"Little tip from a pro, sweetheart—there is no such thing as a random series of robbery murders by your evil twins. Well, have yourselves some uppers and look at that some more. Good luck."

"Thanks, Frank," Sam replied.

"For what?" Frank raised his brows. "Sending you to your deaths? Your doubles want to be on candid camera, put you in the line of fire. Now, I'd lay low, 'cause I love life and its infinite mysteries. But you three want to be dumb, that's fine. At least have the common sense to ditch your car."

Dean frowned deeply. "Wh—uh, excuse me—what?"

"Your doublemints—they're using a car just like the one outside," Frank informed.

~/~\~

A small, old hatchback drove down the dark road.

~/~\~

A yellow My Little Pony was dangling from the rear-view mirror. Dean squeezed it and it squeaked. Dean took out a knife, cut it down, and tossed it into the backseat where Angela was sitting. It squeaked again as Angela caught it. She eyed it and set it down.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't throw things at me," Angela muttered.

Sam looked over at Dean. "Yeah, uh…you okay?"

"You know, it's bad enough that they're ganking people, wearing out mugs, but now this?" Dean scoffed. "Have us driving around in this…this caboodle while Baby's on lockdown."

"It's temporary, Dean," Angela assured.

"Nobody puts Baby in a corner," Dean muttered.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Y-you know that's a line from—

"Swayze movie." Dean cut him off. "Swayze always gets a pass!"

"Right," Sam muttered. "Uh, well, you want some tunes or something? Here." Sam turned on the radio. _All Out of Love_ by Air Supply played through the speakers. Sam frowned and looked at Dean. "Sorry, man, I-I…"

"Just leave it." Dean sighed. "Probably gonna be the only thing on."

" _There's no easy way, it gets harder each day. Please love me or I'll be gone. I'll be gone._ "

Sam looked at the map that Frank had given him. Dean started to lip-sync along to the music and Angela noticed in the rearview mirror. She struggled to hold back a giggle.

" _I'm all out of love. I'm so lost without you._ " The music continued.

Sam frowned and looked over at Dean. Angela looked between them and pursed her lips, holding in a laugh.

" _I know you were right, believing for so long. I'm all out of love._ "

Dean noticed that Sam had been watching him and stopped singing. Angela threw her head back as she laughed.

" _What am I without you?_ " the music played.

Dean looked away out the driver's side window and started to lip-sync again.

" _I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong. Oh. What are…_ "

Sam looked at Dean and he stopped again. Angela was losing it in the back seat.

"… _you thinking of?_ "

Dean moved his head in time with the music.

" _What are you—_

"Here," Sam said, turning off the radio.

Angela's laughter died down and the three of them sat in silence. Sam studied the map and frowned when he noticed that Jericho was circled.

"Dean."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Jericho—the lady in white," Sam noted. He noticed Black Water Ridge was also circled. "Blackwater—wendigo. Lake Manitoc—the kid in the lake."

Angela's brows furrowed. "I don't get it, what's it mean?"

"They're hitting towns we've worked a job in. Before we met you, Angie," Dean explained.

"In order," Sam added. "Since the day I left Stanford with Dean."

"So, what, they want us to find them?" Angela asked.

"Well, one way to find out—next case would be in…St. Louis." Sam replied.

"Perfect," Dean smiled. "Connor's Diner. Best burgers in St. Louis. Oh, I deserve something good in my life right now."


	12. Slash Fiction Part 2

Sam held a cellphone that was set to speaker.

 _"Choppin' their heads off won't kill 'em, but it'll slow 'em down pretty good."_ Bobby's voice rang through. _"Till they fuse back up, anyhow."_

"Well, that's something, I guess," Angela replied. "I mean, assuming we can even get close to them."

 _"Believe me, I don't want you walking right up to 'em, either."_ Bobby sighed. _"I'm still looking for something you can shoot at 'em."_

"Good times." Dean nodded. "Alright, thanks, Bobby."

 _"Hey, you take mayo, right, Bobby?"_ Jody's voice could be heard.

Dean frowned. "You got a chick over there?"

 _"What?"_ Bobby asked. _"No."_

Dean chuckled. "Are you even working, Richard Gere?"

 _"Shut up, you idjit_ , _"_ Bobby replied, causing the three hunters to smile at each other. _"Where you three off to next?"_

"Uh, St. Louis," Angela replied.

 _"It's too late,"_ Bobby interjected. _"They hit St. Louis. Pumpkin-and-Honeybunny'd a diner there."_

Dean frowned deeply. "Connor's Diner?"

 _"Yeah. How'd you know?"_ Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. "Lucky guess. Alright, so much for that."

"I guess we're off to, uh…to Ankeny, Iowa," Sam noted. "Call us if you get anything else."

 _"You got it,"_ Bobby assured.

Sam hung up and sighed.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were walking along the street as a black Impala passed them.

"Guys, guys." Dean stopped Sam and Angela. "Hold up. Don't move. Don't move."

The Impala, which contained Leviathan Dean, Sam, and Angela did a U-turn and parked on the other side of the street and got out.

"Oh, no," Angela muttered. "This is all sorts of wrong."

"Those are nice wheels," Dean admitted. "Tell you what, when this is over, I'm stealing those rims." He added as he pulled out his phone and made a call.

 _"Yeah."_ Bobby's voice rang through.

"Bobby, we got eyes on them," Dean replied.

_"What?"_

Leviathan Dean opened the trunk of the Impala.

"It's like looking in a funhouse mirror," Dean added.

 _"Yeah, I know the feeling,"_ Bobby muttered.

"Alright, well, tell me you got something." Dean sighed. "Otherwise, we're gonna have to get in close."

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked along the street close to where the Impala was parked on the other side.

 _"Look, just hang back for now,"_ Bobby replied.

"It's too late," Dean argued. "We gotta—

Suddenly a police car pulled up, sirens blaring.

"Hang on." Dean sighed.

A sheriff and another officer got out of the police car and the sheriff pointed a gun at Dean.

"Hands in the air!" the sheriff commanded.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean replied as another police car pulled up. "Big misunderstanding."

The deputies from the second vehicle were now pointing their guns as the three hunters from behind them.

"Look, the guys you want—

"Shut up!" the sheriff told Dean.

"They're right there." Dean pointed.

"Shut up! Drop the phone. Put your hands in the air!"

 _"Dean?"_ Bobby's voice rang through.

Dean put the phone down.

 _"Dean!"_ Bobby exclaimed.

"Cuff 'em." The sheriff ordered.

The deputies behind Sam, Dean, and Angela put them in handcuffs. Dean looked at Leviathan Dean, who was back in the driver's seat of the Impala. Leviathan Dean smirked and winked.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were escorted into the Ankeny Sheriff's office.

"Look, you're making a mistake," Angela said. "The real killers are back at the diner, okay?"

The sheriff scoffed. "Is that the best you can do?"

"I want my phone call," Dean demanded.

"Oh, there'll be a call, to the FBI." The Sheriff replied. "Take him to cell number one." He gestured at Dean. "Take them to the interview room." He gestured at Sam and Angela. "Once they're secure, you boys call it a night."

"You're making a mistake!" Sam exclaimed.

~/~\~

The sheriff walked towards Dean's cell.

"Hey," Dean said. "I have a right to my phone call."

"A right?" the sheriff raised his brows. "You killed how many people last couple days, and you want me to hop-to on your rights?"

Dean sighed. "I didn't—please—just give me one—one phone call."

~/~\~

The sheriff held a phone outside of the cell so Dean could speak into it.

 _"Guys?"_ Bobby's voice came through.

"Bobby, we got popped," Dean replied.

 _"Okay,"_ Bobby replied. _"I'll be there as soon as—_

"No, no, there's no time." Dean interrupted. "Look, we say them. They saw us. So, we are coming to get us. You read me? Tell me you got something."

 _"There's a chemical,"_ Bobby replied. _"Sodium borate."_

Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, let me get Mr. Wizard on speed dial."

 _"No, no, it ain't as weird as it sounds,"_ Bobby assured. _"It's found in industrial cleaners and soaps and laundry powder. Just look for anything with the word Borax on it."_

"You want me to _Desperate Housewives_ these mothers?" Dean frowned.

 _"No, just trust me. It burns 'em bad enough to slow 'em down. So get the strongest you can find."_ Bobby explained. _"Hear me?"_

"Borax. Burns. Got it." Dean summarized.

 _"Then douse 'em, then get close, and chop the heads off,"_ Bobby added.

"Got it." Dean nodded.

 _"And keep the head separate!"_ Bobby pressed.

"Bobby, you're a genius. Thanks. I—

The sheriff snapped the phone shut and Dean frowned.

"What'd you do that for?" Dean asked.

"Borax? Decapitation? What kind of sickos are you and your friends?" the sheriff asked before he started to walk away.

"Hey, you listen to me," Dean said.

The sheriff paused and turned back to Dean.

"If you don't get every ounce, every drop of whatever that stuff is in this place now, we're all gonna die!" Dean stressed.

"Well, you're crazier than I thought." The sheriff muttered before leaving.

"Hey!" Dean shouted.

~/~\~

Dean was sitting in his cell. The sheriff walked towards the cell, a terrified look on his face. Dean stood up.

"What is it?" Dean asked. "What happened?"

"I…It's just…I don't know what I just saw." The sheriff stammered.

"Let me out of here," Dean replied. The Sheriff unlocked the cell and opened the door. "Okay, you listen to me, and we'll live," Dean said. "Alright, keep your head down, get to the supply closet. Get anything that says Borax on it—bring it here. Now. Go."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were handcuffed to the table in the interview room. Sam fiddled with his handcuffs as Dean entered.

"Dean!" Sam and Angela exclaimed. They each held out their handcuffed wrists.

Leviathan Dean shut the door and smirked. "I'm not your brother. But, I am Dean adjacent." He walked towards the table, chuckling.

~/~\~

Dean was in the main office area and he took the gun that belonged to the partially-eaten deputy. "Sorry." Dean apologized. He turned and saw what appeared to be Sam and Angela. "Sammy. Angie." He said. He studied their faces and realized that they were Leviathans. "Not Sammy and Angie."

Dean raised his gun and shot at them. Leviathan Sam knocked the gun out of Dean's hand and Leviathan Angela threw Dean into a trophy cabinet.

~/~\~

"I just want to let you know how much I've really grown to hate you two and your brother since we've been wearing you." Leviathan Dean noted. "I just don't get it. You could be anything. You're strong, you're uninhibited. You're smart enough, believe it or not. But you're so caught up in being good and taking care of each other."

"What do you care?" Sam glared.

"Because it pisses me off!" Leviathan Dean roared. "You're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to subjugate the weak."

~/~\~

Dean got to his feet and used his elbow to break the glass on a cabinet containing an emergency ax.

"Cute." Leviathan Angela laughed. "Really think you can get close enough to use it?"

"Two against one, Dean." Leviathan Sam smirked.

"Not until you're burning," Dean growled.

The sheriff tossed liquid from a bucket onto the Leviathans, who started to sizzle. Black smoke rose from their skin and they started groaning in pain. Dean swiftly cut off their heads and black liquid oozed from their necks.

~/~\~

"Here's the deal." Leviathan Dean said to Sam. "Dean…thinks your nutballs." He sat on the table. "He thinks you're off your game."

"You gonna kill us, or is this some sort of 'play with your food' bull?" Sam asked.

Leviathan Dean nodded and stood up. "Alright. Alright. You know, I guess that's why Dean never told you that he killed Amy." He smirked.

Sam looked at Leviathan Dean in shock and alarm, Angela looked confused and angry. She shot a worried glance at Sam.

"There it is." Leviathan Dean grinned. "The look on your face. That is priceless! That's what I've been waiting for. Now I can eat you. 'Cause, you see, I like my meat a little bitter."

Dean burst into the room, slung liquid at the Leviathan, and chopped his head off with the ax. "Well, that felt good." He muttered.

The sheriff quickly unlocked Sam and Angela's handcuffs. Once freed, Angela quickly held Sam's hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

"So…the FBI is on the way." The sheriff noted.

"Yeah, listen, about that…" Dean trailed off.

"Whatever I can do." The sheriff nodded. "Especially if it involves lying about everything I just saw."

"Good," Dean replied. "I was hoping you could help us kind of…be dead. You know, quote-unquote."

"Yeah. Yeah, I should be able to swing that. Alright."

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Come on, let's grab a mop." He said as he started to leave the room. He paused when he saw that the couple hadn't moved. "Guys? You okay?"

Sam looked at Dean briefly and nodded, then looked away. "Yeah. Fine."

"Let's go," Dean stressed.

Dean left as Sam and Angela continued to sit at the table.

"Sammy…" Angela whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Did you know?" Sam whispered.

"God no, Sam," Angela replied honestly. "I-If I had known…I would have told you. And I would have ripped Dean a new one."

~/~\~

Dean opened the trunk of the hatchback, which contained a canvas bag and the My Little Pony. He unzipped the bag, which contained the three Leviathan heads wrapped in plastic.

Dean sighed. "Are you sure you want to dump these things?" he asked. "I'm thinking they might actually come in handy down the road. What do you think?"

Sam leaned against the hatchback, his arm wrapped around Angela's waist. Neither of them responded.

"Hey," Dean called out. "What? What is it? Talk."

"Nothing," Sam muttered.

"Well, that's convincing." Dean scoffed. "Did monster-us give you guys the jeebs, huh? 'Cause I gotta be honest—I ain't looking in the mirror for—for a while."

Sam clenched his jaw and looked at Dean. "Okay. You really want to know what's going on?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Yeah, you know my motto—here to help."

"Here to help." Sam scoffed. "Kind of like you helped Amy?"

Dean paused. "Listen, Sam…"

"Don't—don't lie to me again," Sam growled. "No, don't even talk to me." He added. After a moment he shook his head. "Yeah, I can't." Sam pulled away from Angela and opened the rear passenger door and took his bags out. "You know what, Dean?" he started to walk away. "I can't."

Angela folded her arms across her chest, pursing her lips.

"You can't what?" Dean asked Sam.

"I can't even talk to you right now! Dean…I can't even be around you right now!" Sam yelled.

Angela grabbed her bags as well. Dean gave her a confused look.

"Angie, where are you going?" Dean asked.

"With Sam." She replied. "Dean…I am so incredibly disappointed and angry right now. I don't understand how you could kill his friend and lie to his face about it for _weeks!"_

"Angie, I felt guilty—

"Well, what good does that do, Dean?! You _killed her_ and lied about it." Angela yelled. "And it wasn't even you who told Sam! It was a Leviathan! Look, Dean, you're my brother and I love you. But, I have to be there for Sam. I think it's best if we go our separate ways for a bit." She explained before she walked over to Sam.

Dean swallowed sadly and nodded, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince them to stay.

"Just… Just go, Dean," Sam demanded.

"Alright." Dean nodded. "I'm sorry, Sam." He turned back to the car.

Angela gently took Sam's hand in hers and they walked away.


	13. The Mentalists Part 1

Dean walked along the street carrying a fast-food bag. He checked his cellphone and frowned when he saw that there were no new messages. He stopped next to a blue and gray Dodge Challenger and looked around to make sure that nobody was watching before he used a hook to break in. He looked in disgust at the pile of garbage on the passenger seat.

"Geez." He muttered. "Have some pride." He swept the garbage onto the floor and hot-wired the car. "Yeah." He smirked as the car started.

 _"Ooh! That makes me hungry. You're listening to the morning chaos with me, Bananas Foster."_ The man on the radio said as Dean pulled down the fluffy dice that were hanging from the rear-view mirror.

"The hell I am, ass-hat." Dean rolled his eyes. He moved to change the channel but paused.

 _"And now for the news of the weird,"_ the radio host started. _"Two very odd murders, to be exact. Mediums are dying in Lily Dale, the most psychic town in America. So, if you want to know your future…"_ he added as Dean backed out and drove off. _"Stick to that 900 line, 'cause is it me, or should those guys have seen it coming?"_

~/~\~

Dean flashed his badge to a police officer who was looking around the room where the séance was held. Dean discovered a tape recorder under the table and played the recording, which was of rustling noises. He moved a lever on the floor and there were mumbled voices. Dean then pressed a switch on a chair and the curtains moved.

"Oh, spirits of the further…am I going to win the Powerball?" Dean asked as he pressed a large lever under the table, causing a knock to be heard. "I'm gonna be rich!" Dean laughed.

~/~\~

Dean walked down the street that was littered with shops that advertised psychic, palm, and tarot readings. He noticed the poster for the _Annual Lily Dale Psychic Festival_ that showcased two of the dead women. Dean entered the Good Graces Café.

"Hello!" the waiter grinned. "First time at Good Graces?"

"Yes," Dean replied.

"Well, we're 100% locally sourced, biodynamic, and you get a free affirmation with every order." He explained.

Dean paused. "Think I'll source a taco joint." He replied as he turned around.

The waiter's smile fell. "Alright."

Dean stopped and frowned when he heard Sam and Angela's voices.

"Just coffee, black, extra shot," Sam said to the waiter.

"And I'll just have a water," Angela added.

The couple was sitting at a nearby table, reading a case file. Dean walked up to the table.

"You always wear a suit to get your palm read?" Dean asked Sam.

Angela smiled a small smile at Dean, but Sam just ignored him, not even cracking a smile at the joke.

"Yeah." Dean sighed. "Not surprised you guys caught this one. It's on every morning zoo in America. You mind?" he gestured at the chair.

Sam moved his hands noncommittally. Dean took a seat across from the couple and Sam moved the case file to his lap.

"So, I, uh, I went to the scene," Dean noted. "Wires, speakers, enough EMF to make your hair stand up. Don't even think about getting a reading. Oh, and, uh, if this hadn't have been two psychics that bit it…I would have just chalked this up to being, uh, dumb and accidental. And I know, I know. This whole town's supposedly calling ghosts. But that takes some serious spell work and some serious mojo. The only books this lady had were Oprah crap. When was the last time you actually saw a real psychic? Huh? Pamela? Missouri?" Dean continued. "Anyway, this is good. And, uh, how have you guys been?"

The waiter came up to them and smiled at Dean. "And what can I get for you?"

"Uh, pancakes, side of pig. Coffee, black." Dean replied.

"Fantastic." The waiter replied. "You are a virile manifestation of the divine." He added with a broad smile before he left.

Dean frowned. "What the hell did he say to me?"

Angela laughed slightly and Sam just scoffed, looking back at the file.

"Oh, it's funny?" Dean asked. "Yeah, no. Go ahead. Laugh it up, guys. _Hilarious._ "

"Dean…" Sam sighed.

"Oh, he speaks." Dean sassed.

"Look…" Sam started.

"We're all here." Dean cut him off. "Alright, and the chance of any of us leaving while people are still dying out there," Dean added, making a 'zero' sign with his hand and clicked his tongue. "You might as well bite the bullet and work with me on this one."

"I don't know if I can," Sam replied honestly.

Angela gently grabbed Sam's hand, causing him to look at her. "Sammy," she sighed. "I understand that you're upset with him, but he's right. You and I aren't gonna leave, and Dean's not gonna leave. There's no point in working separately."

Sam sighed deeply, knowing she was right, but not wanting to admit it. "Fine." He replied. "But I just want to try and stop the killings. That's it."

Dean looked a little surprised. "Really? Okay, good."

Suddenly, a woman stopped at their table and stared at the three hunters.

"Can I help you?" Dean raised his brows.

"Y-you're the people from the—

"Oh, no, no, no, no," Angela assured. "The Winchester guys and that Morgan girl on the news a couple weeks back? No—we get that a lot."

"Yeah, no. Those depraved killers got put down like the dogs that they were." Dean added. "Us on the other hand, we're completely harmless."

The woman laughed. "Oh, yeah! I'm sorry. Silly me." She smiled. "And I can see by your energies, you're completely gentle."

A man walked up and put his arm around the woman. "Excuse my friend." He said in a thick Russian accent. "She's excitable. Sweetheart, look at them, hmm? They're FBI."

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed.

"I'm Russian." The man added when he saw the looks on the three hunters' faces. "We can spot the law. You must be here about the tragedies."

"Oh, we're just beside ourselves about what happened." The woman added.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "And so close to festival season, huh?"

"Yeah—no—

"Of course we're worried." The man interjected. "We have no idea what's going on, huh?" he took out a business card and handed it to Sam. "Nikolai. Let me know if I can help you. I'm highly intuitive."

"Nikolai Lishin, spoon bender?" Sam asked.

"Mm. World-famous." He replied, grabbing Sam's spoon. "Come to my demonstration at the festival, huh?" he suggested, making a hand motion over the spoon. "I teach you to harness the power of your mind." He explained as he set down the spoon. "Come, let's leave them be."

Nikolai and the woman walked over to their table and Dean rolled his eyes.

"So glad we decided to vacation here, huh? Right?" Dean muttered.

Sam put his case file back on the table. "Alright. Here we go. First death…second death." He slid the files over to Dean.

Dean looked at the photographs. "What am I looking at?"

"Well, see this?" Angela asked. "Now, this is Imelda Graven, death number one. She was brained by her crystal ball."

"Bummer, and ironic," Dean replied as he turned over a page. The next photograph was of the woman stabbed by the planchette. Dean looked back at the first photograph. "Same necklace?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "See, Imelda gave it to Goldy in her will."

"Okay, so, cursed object, maybe?" Dean asked.

"Worth looking into." Angela nodded. "Goldy's next of kin lives in town, also a psychic."

"Oh, good," Dean replied sarcastically. "I haven't had my fill."

Sam poured sugar into his coffee and he frowned when the spoon in his hand bent by itself. "He broke my spoon…"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked towards the front door of the little house. The door opened and two women stepped out.

"Melanie Golden?" Angela asked. "Hi. Uh…Got a minute?" she asked as the three of them flashed their badges.

"You want me to stay?" Camille asked.

"No, that's okay," Melanie assured.

"Okay." Camille nodded.

Melanie embraced Camille. "Thanks for stopping by, hon."

"Of course," Camille replied before leaving.

"A friend," Melanie told the three hunters. "She just heard about my grandmother…which is, I guess, why you guys are here, so come on in."

~/~\~

Melanie led the three hunters into the living room. "Sorry. I just got back."

"You were out of town?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I work the circuit—hotels, conventions, you know." Melanie shrugged.

"Oh. Wait," Dean frowned. "No offense, but…you don't seem all that psychic."

Melanie tilted her head slightly. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I mean, just, you know, where's all the…crystals and pyramids?" Dean questioned.

"I'm off the clock," Melanie replied. "Also not psychic." She admitted, causing Dean to furrow his brows. "What? It's an honest living."

"Interesting definition of 'honest'," Dean replied.

"Well, I honestly read people." Melanie shrugged. "It's just less whoo-whoo, more body language. Like you three—long-time partners, but, um…a lot of tension. You're pissed." She gestured to Sam. "You're stressed." She gestured to Dean. "And you feel like you're stuck in the middle." She gestured to Angela. "It's not brain surgery. It's kind of why my grandma and I didn't get along. I mean, she'd go full smoke-machine, but she still actually believed in all that stuff, so…"

"You don't?" Dean asked.

"You do?" Melanie retorted.

"I've got an open mind. You'd be surprised." Dean smirked.

"Hmm." Melanie hummed.

"I'm sorry to have to ask, b-but there's a necklace of your grandmother's." Sam cut in.

"Don't have it," Melanie replied. "Everything went straight to the emporium. She had a deal with the owner."

Angela raised her brows. "The emporium?"

~/~\~

The three hunters walked up to the counter, and the man standing behind the counter set down his coffee.

"Mmm. Mmm." He held his hands up. "You're looking…for something."

"You're good," Dean replied sarcastically.

"Are you Jimmy Tomorrow?" Angela asked.

Jimmy smirked. "Sure am, sweetheart."

Angela pursed her lips. "We're looking for a necklace."

"Oh," he smirked. "Romantic."

"It would have come in with Grandma Goldy's effects." Sam cut in. He put down a photo of Goldy on the counter and pointed to the necklace she was wearing.

"Oh. Yes, yes." Jimmy nodded. Now, you do know that this is the Orb of Thessaly."

"We did not know," Dean replied.

Jimmy picked up a large metal box and put it on the counter. "Very powerful, very rare."

"Let me guess," Dean sighed. "Very expensive."

"Worth every penny," Jimmy replied as he took out the necklace.

"Well, in the case…" Dean trailed off as the three hunters flashed their badges. "We'll be taking the state's-evidence discount."

Jimmy frowned. "What's going on?"

"A murder investigation that we'd like to personally thank you for not obstructing," Sam replied, reaching to take the necklace.

Jimmy grabbed Sam's wrist. "You know, I give private energetic readings."

"No, thanks," Sam replied.

"A loss weighs on you," Jimmy noted. "You're angry. It's complicated. Come to see me, Agent." He handed Sam a business card.

Sam took the card with an annoyed look.

"Thanks, Jimmy." Dean smiled. "We'll see you soon."

The three hunters started to walk away.

"The bureau's gonna reimburse me for the necklace, right?" Jimmy called after them.

"Oh, we'll send you a check," Dean assured.

~/~\~

Sam was examining the necklace as they walked out of the emporium.

"Went a little _Mentalist_ on you there, didn't he?" Dean asked.

Sam glanced at Dean but didn't answer.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "Next question. What's an Orb of Thessaly?"

"I know one thing—it's made in Taiwan." Sam scoffed, tossing the necklace to Dean.

"Oh, a fake, around here. Imagine that." Dean said sarcastically. "'Course, that means that whatever's killing mediums is still out there."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Sam looked at the bloodstained coffee table and scattered silverware in the living room.

"He probably should have bent those with the power of his mind," Dean muttered.

"Chief," Sam greeted. "We met at the station."

"Right. Morning, Agents."

"Morning," Angela replied. "Uh, this is Agent Borne." She gestured to Dean. "So, what happened?"

"It's a weird one." The chief sighed. "Chest full of cutlery."

"Alright. We're gonna take a look around." Dean replied. "Let us know if you get any leads."

The chief scoffed. "Oh, I got leads coming out of my ass. As of 9 o'clock, our tip line had 46 calls, all from clairvoyants that know what really happened."

"What's the popular theory?" Dean asked.

"It's a toss-up between a ghost and some sort of ogre that only attacks Russians."

Dean nodded. "Policing Lily Dale sounds fun."

"It was either this or Los Angeles." The chief shrugged.

"So, these clairvoyants, did they give any details as to why they thought it was a ghost? Or a…Russian ogre?" Sam asked.

"Their spirit monkey said so." The chief scoffed. "Plus, apparently, this guy claims he had a vision of his own death, cutlery and all."

Suddenly Dean's phone rang and he looked at the chief. "Excuse me." He said before walking away. "Hello?"

 _"Agent Borne?"_ Melanie's voice rang through. _"It's Melanie Golden."_

Dean frowned. "Everything okay?"

 _"Did you mean it when you said you had an open mind?"_ she asked.

~/~\~

The three hunters sat on a couch across from Melanie, who was holding a landline phone.

"I hadn't checked it until today," Melanie noted. "I mean, the only person who ever called my landline was my grandma."

"That's okay," Angela replied gently. "Go on."

Melanie sighed. "Look, I wouldn't put any stock in it. I mean, she was always calling me with some crazy dream she was sure was a sign, that kind of thing, but…uh, is it true Nikolai had a real vision of his death?"

"That's what we were told," Dean confirmed.

"Well, so did she—that day she died," Melanie replied.

"What'd she say?" Dean asked.

"Well, you can listen to it if you want." Melanie put the phone on the coffee table. "She said she was in a séance, then the lights go, it's freezing."

"Wait, she said that? That the room got cold?" Sam asked.

Melanie looked confused. "Yeah. Why? Is that important?"

The three hunters looked at each other and Melanie frowned.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

"A ghost. The real deal." Dean answered.

"Come on." Melanie scoffed. "You're serious." She realized.

"Yeah. See, there's, uh, fake whoo-whoo crap, and there's _real_ whoo-whoo crap." Dean replied.

"Well, yeah, but…ghosts?" Melanie asked.

"Oh, trust me. There's a lot weirder out there than that." Dean chuckled.

"So, _The X-Files_ is real, or you just stopped talking like an FBI Agent."

"Well, um…we're not FBI Agents," Angela admitted.

Melanie paused. "I need a drink."

"I support that." Dean nodded.

~/~\~

"You know, if this is a spirit, it ain't your average spook tied to a house," Dean said as they walked out of Melanie's house. "I mean, this thing is boogieing all over town."

"Not surprised," Angela replied. "I mean, how many crystal balls do you figure there are in Lily Dale?"

"Somewhere between 50 and, uh, all of them," Dean replied as they walked to the Dodge.

"Well, I mean, quartz can act as an antenna for spirits, right?" Sam noted. "I mean, that's why mediums started using crystal balls in the first place."

"Well, that means that every storefront in town has got a ghost satellite dish." Dean sighed.

"Exactly. And this place is packed with people summoning spirits." Angela added.

"Yeah, but, most of these guys can't even call a taxi," Dean argued.

"All it takes is one," Sam replied.

Dean sighed deeply. "That's gonna be like looking for a needle in a stack of fake needles."

"It's worse." Sam countered. "I mean, I'll bet you anything some of these guys got real juice. I'm not talking kill-people level. I'm just saying, enough to make it complicated."

"I hate this town," Dean complained. "Alright, so…" he opened the driver's door. "What? Start hitting up the Miss Cleos?"

"I was thinking split up and canvass. It's faster." Sam replied, taking Angela's hand in his before walking away, bringing Angela with him.

"Right," Dean muttered. "'Course you were."

~/~\~

Melanie stood next to Dean and she rang the doorbell to her friend's house. Camille opened the door and frowned.

"It's okay," Melanie assured. "Like I said on the one, he can help."

"Phony lawman, huh?" Camille asked, shutting the door after the came inside.

"Yeah, 'cause nobody can relate to phony around here." Dead sassed.

"Well, if you can do something, I don't care if you call yourself the Pope," Camille replied.

"Alright. What happened, exactly?" Dean asked.

"What happened is, I had a friggin' vision," Camille answered. "Something is coming for me!"

"What's coming? Did you get a look?" Dean asked.

"No." Camille shook her head. "But I sure felt it when it started breaking my bones. I don't want to die."

"Okay. We'll figure it out." Dean assured. "The vision happened in here?"

"Yeah, by the cash box."

Dean noticed a camera in a mask on the wall. "There any chance good-lookin' was watching?"

Dean, Melanie, and Camille watched. The video footage on the computer. It showed Camille walking across the room with the cash box when the picture cut out.

"What was that?" Camille asked.

Dean replayed the footage. A ghost of a woman could be seen behind Camille.

"What the hell?!" Camille gasped.

The ghost on the footage walked up behind Camille and put her hands on her head.

"Oh, my God." Camille breathed. "Oh, my God!"

Melanie frowned. "W-was that, I mean, an actual—

"Bonafide. Yeah." Dean interrupted. "Well, no offense, but nobody's having psychic visions around here. This, uh, spirit, whoever she is, is giving them out."

"And then killing people?" Camille asked.

"Until we stop her," Dean replied. "Well, the good news is you said you saw a clock and it read 2 AM, so that gives us a little time. Now, does anybody recognize this chick?"

"You know, I swear I've seen here, like in a painting or something," Melanie recalled.

"A painting?" Dean asked. "Like, a—

"No, not a painting." Melanie frowned. "In one of those old photos in the museum."

~/~\~

A museum guide led a group into a room in which Sam, Dean, and Angela were in.

"Lily Dale has long been a haven for psychically gifted." The museum guide explained. "Tortured elsewhere, they're embraced here. My own family has a modest natural gift. We also celebrate our long and colorful history of…embellishers."

People in the group laughed and the guide gestured towards a display.

"Ectoplasm illusion, circa 1890." The guide commented.

Sam rolled his eyes and took Angela's hand in his before they left the room, Dean following behind. Dean walked past a historical poster advertising _'Sibling Acts'_. The three hunters ended up in a room with many photographs on the wall.

"Never ended well for the siblings." The museum guide said suddenly.

"Why is that?" Dean asked.

"Mm, the strain of working together, or maybe just being around each other all their lives." The guide speculated. "Those two were the exception, actually—the Campbells. Got along famously. Of course, that was just a stage name. They weren't actually brothers. That was a cover for their, um…alternative lifestyle. Any other questions I can answer?"

"Yes." Angela nodded. "Who are they?" she gestured to a photo of two women.

"Oh, the Fox sisters—among the founders of Lily Dale." The guide replied. "Kate Fox—quite troubled, apparently, but mesmerizing on stage. She's said to be able to levitate objects and foretell one's death."

"That's her," Dean muttered to Sam and Angela.

"Her older sister, Margaret—perhaps not a natural psychic." The guide continued.

"So, full of crap," Dean interjected.

"Yes, well…she didn't have her sister's charisma, but she looked after Kate. Sometimes, one's true gift is taking care of others."

"So, what happened to them?" Angela asked curiously.

"Lived here all their lives."

"Lived here and died here?" Sam asked.

"Yes, well…buried in the cemetery."

"Great." Sam nodded. "That was very educational. Thank you. Dean."

Sam and Angela walked away. Dean began to follow, but the museum guide grabbed Dean's arm.

"I'm sorry, I don't usually do this during business hours, but do you know an Eleanor…or an Ellen?" the guide asked. "She seems quite concerned about you. She wants to tell you—pardon me—if you don't tell someone how bad it really is, she'll kick your ass from beyond. You have to trust someone again eventually." He explained before he let go of Dean. "Anyway, don't forget to visit the gift shop."

~/~\~

Dean walked down the museum steps to where Sam and Angela were waiting for him and they started walking away.

"Alright. Hit up the graveyard, dig up Kate?" Sam suggested.

"Alright. Wait a second." Dean sighed.

"All signs point to her, Dean." Sam shrugged.

"No. Just hold on a damn minute," Dean demanded.

Sam stopped and turned to face Dean. Angela just closed her eyes and sighed.

"This isn't gonna be good." She muttered, mostly to herself.

"Enough with 'just the facts'." Dean glared.

Sam clenched his jaw. "We agreed—

"No, we agreed to work the case." Dean cut Sam off. "We didn't agree for you to be a dick the whole time."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"You're pissed, okay? And you've got every right." Dean noted.

"Yeah, damn straight," Sam replied angrily.

"But enough's enough," Dean stressed.

"Says who?" Sam asked. "Look, I'll work the damn case for Angie's sake, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend." He turned to walk away.

Dean looked at Angela and raised his brows. "You gonna chime in here at any point?"

"Uh-uh." Angela shook her head. "You are not pulling me into the middle of this! I'm not your tiebreaker, Dean. Sam's got every right to be pissed, but I also think you two need to talk this crap out!"

Angela followed Sam and Dean was on her heels. He quickly caught up to Sam.

"I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn't know her, you'd have done the same thing." Dean defended.

"I did know her, Dean." Sam glared.

"Yeah, which is why you couldn't do it!" Dean snapped.

Sam stopped and Angela pinched the bridge of her nose. This was so not gonna end well.

"Look, I get it." Dean sighed. "There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can't."

Sam turned to face Dean. "Don't pull that card! That's bull. Look, if I've learned one thing, it's that if something feels wrong, it probably is!"

"Usually, yeah." Dean agreed. "But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn't do it, so I did. That's what family does—the dirty work. And I woulda told you, eventually, once I knew this whole 'waving a gun at Satan' thing was a one-time show. I think it's reasonable to want to know that you're off the friggin' high dive, Sam. You almost got us all killed, so you can be pissed all you want, but quit being a bitch."

Dean walked past Sam and Angela towards the job. Sam stood still and watched him. Angela shook her head, clearly frustrated.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were digging a grave while Dean held a flashlight.

"I get why she's killing people," Sam grunted. "I don't get why she's warning them."

"Give them a taste of the curse, maybe?" Dean suggested. "It couldn't have been a joyride."

Sam and Angela finished digging and got out of the grave.

"Here we go," Angela said.

Dean poured lighter fluid and Sam poured salt onto the bones. A woman materialized and rushed at San, sending him sprawling.

"Sammy!" Angela exclaimed.

"Back off, crazy eyes," Dean warned.

"Listen to me." The ghost demanded. "Why isn't anybody listening?"

Dean held out his lighter and flicked it, but it didn't catch.

"No." the ghost glared.

"You don't get a vote." Dean snarled.

"No! Stop! The ghost yelled.

Dean flicked his lighter ineffectually and Sam flung a lit match into the grave, causing the ghost to burn up.

"Nice timing, baby." Angela rushed over to him. "You okay?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were driving down the dark street when Dean's phone rang.

"Melanie?" Dean asked.

"Dean, you have to come back," Melanie begged.

"What's going on?"

"It's still happening!" Melanie exclaimed.

"Wait, what do you mean it's—

"She's still coming! Just tell me what the hell to do!"

"Alright," Dean started. "Listen to me. Calm down."

Angela leaned over the backseat and grabbed the phone. "Dean, just give me the phone and drive." She sighed. "Melanie? Hey. Get to the kitchen."

"She's here!" Melanie cried.

"Alright, just go. Get salt." Angela instructed.

"It worked," Melanie replied. "She's gone!" She added. After a few moments, she screamed again. "No, she's back! I'm out of salt!"

"Find iron," Angela replied. "Is there a fireplace? Melanie!"


	14. The Mentalists Part 2

The three hunters pulled up outside of Camille's house in the Dodge. Melanie was outside on the steps crying. The three hunters got out and Dean ran to Melanie and put his arms around her as she cried.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela stood in the living room of Melanie's home.

"Should have known that whole 'good sis, bad sis' story was just showmanship crap," Dean muttered. "Oh, and it turns out that Kate was just trying to warn people about her evil bitch sister. And we burned her bones, so that's gone."

"Dean." Sam sighed.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"All we can do now is stop her," Angela said gently.

"That's not good enough, by a mile," Dean replied.

"We know," Sam assured. "But—can we talk about this later?"

Melanie came down the stairs in a blue bathrobe, still crying.

"Hey." Dean greeted softly. "How you holding up?"

"Been better." Melanie sniffled.

"Listen, if you need for us to leave—

"I need you guys to leave." Melanie nodded.

"Okay, we will," Angela replied. "It's just that…Look—Margaret is still out there."

Melanie sobbed and shook her head. "What do you guys need to know?"

"Is there anything that stood out?" Sam asked.

"Well, um…she barely gave a crap about me." Melanie shrugged. "I mean, I was just in the way. She was all about getting Camille."

"Okay." Dean nodded. "That's something."

"One other thing," Melanie added. "Um…she enjoyed it. She was smiling."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela stood next to a grave that read _'Margaret Fox, October 7th, 1833 to March 8th, 1893'._ Dean was digging in the grave.

"I feel naked doing this in daylight," Dean muttered, looking around.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Let's just hurry up."

Dean got out of the grave and Sam started digging. Sam crashed the shovel down on the coffin to break it open.

"Alright, Mags," Dean muttered. My lighter's juiced this time."

Sam lifted the top of the coffin out of the grave. The three hunters frowned when they saw that the coffin was empty. They walked towards the Dodge, shovels in hand.

"Geraldo'd." Dean sighed.

"Not good," Angela replied.

"Never good." Dean agreed.

"If someone knew enough to take Margaret's bones, they not kidding around," Angela noted. "That's serious binding magic."

"Great," Dean scoffed as he put his shovel and bag in the trunk. "Psychic ghost bitch on a leash."

"We got to find those bones," Sam stressed.

So we got to find the bonehead." Dean sighed. He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and tossed it into the trunk.

"So, what?" Angela asked. "We call Bobby, see what it takes to harness the power of a ghost?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. He looked at the paper he had tossed into the trunk and picked it up, unfolding it. "Hey, guys, you know why I'm not going to spend my money at the annual Lily Dale ESP Festival and hot-dog-eating contest this year?"

Sam scoffed. "Can't imagine."

Dean showed them the flyer. "Because all the headliners are dead."

~/~\~

Melanie was looking at the slightly crumpled flyer in her hands. "You know, after Nikolai…They asked Camille to take his spot. I mean, she's so popular." She noted. "Was so popular."

"Okay, uh, all these people—would you say that they're the, uh, you know, top dogs in town?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's not really like that," Melanie replied.

"But they were all doing well," Dean commented. "I mean, your grandma?"

"She wrote a few books." Melanie nodded. "Yeah, and Imelda was on _The Nate Berkus Show_ twice, so, yeah, I guess they were doing pretty well. You think that's why she went after them?"

"I mean, if you had to guess, who do you think would be next in line?" Dean asked.

Melanie shrugged. "I mean, I don't know."

"Well, your grandma was headlining at the big hall, so who do you think they would ask to fill in for her?" Dean pressed.

"Probably…" Melanie frowned. "Me."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked up to the counter where Jimmy sat.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"Agents," Jimmy replied. "Are you here with my check?"

"We're looking for someone who bought some things from you," Angela replied.

Jimmy raised his brows. "How do you know from me?"

"We're kind of doubting they sell ash-wood altars at the Gas 'n Sip." Sam retorted.

"Valid." Jimmy nodded. "Let me see the list." He added as he pulled out a record book. "Ah. Here we go. Credit-card receipt. I assume you want the address?"

"That'd be great," Angela replied. "Thanks."

"It's the least I can do," Jimmy replied as he wrote down the address. "I just heard about Camille Thibodeaux."

Jimmy handed Angela a piece of paper with the address on it.

"Thank you," Angela replied before she and Sam left.

~/~\~

Dean made a salt circle around himself and Melanie. Melanie furrowed her brows in concern.

"You sure that'll work?" she asked.

Dean nodded. "That should hold her off long enough for Sam and Angie to find the bones and burn them." He replied. "Hopefully."

"Hopefully?" Melanie frowned. "Does it hurt 'em? Burning their bones?"

Dean frowned. "I never really thought about it." He admitted. "Probably, yeah."

"Good," Melanie replied.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela pulled up in front of a house in a station wagon. Angela checked the address on the paper and nodded.

"This is the one," Angela confirmed.

"Alright," Sam replied as they got out of the car. "Let's go."

The two hunters pulled out their guns and walked to the front door, bursting through it, causing people in the room to scream.

"Where's the altar?" Sam asked.

The room was full of pregnant women and their partners, all seated on cushions on the floor. Sam and Angela looked at the people, confused.

"It's there!" the instructor pointed.

Sam and Angela turned to look at the altar.

"You're…not a necromancer," Angela noted.

"This is a Lamaze class, I swear!" the instructor assured.

"W-we believe you. Sorry." Angela replied sheepishly. She grabbed Sam's hand and they left quickly.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked quickly to the station wagon. Sam had Dean on speaker as they walked.

"Dean, it's the pawn-shop guy," Sam said.

 _"How do you know?"_ Dean's voice rang through.

"He goose-chased us to a pregnant yoga class," Angela replied.

 _"Alright, well figure out where he put her bones,"_ Dean instructed.

"We will," Sam assured.

_"Fast, guys."_

~/~\~

Sam and Angela got out of the station wagon and walked to the emporium, which was closed. Angela took out Jimmy's business card and looked around. She found 809 ½ and nudged Sam. Sam opened the door and the couple entered with their guns drawn. Sam walked over to a table on which there was a skull, a lit candle, and some other objects. Angela stood next to him and picked up the skull when suddenly a gun cocked behind them.

"Somehow, I just knew you'd be back," Jimmy smirked.

~/~\~

"Hi, Agents," Jimmy said. "Put the skull down."

"Okay, okay," Angela replied. "Take it easy. Here." She added as she raised the skull.

As Jimmy reached for the skull, Angela turned, took the gun from Jimmy and Sam shoved him backward.

"Alright." Sam breathed. "That's enough."

~/~\~

Dean and Melanie were inside the salt circle, looking at the window.

"Is she gone?"

"I doubt it." Dean sighed.

Melanie looked worried. "But she can't get past the salt line, right?"

"Right." Dean nodded.

The window glass shattered inwards and the wind howled in, destroying the salt circle.

~/~\~

Sam pulled Angela behind him and knocked over the table that the skull and other objects were on. "Nice binding spell," Sam commented.

"It doesn't matter. She helps me because she wants to." Jimmy smirked.

Sam frowned, confused. "What?"

"Margaret and me…are the same," Jimmy replied. "We're the real thing. But guess what—sometimes the real things just isn't pretty or entertaining enough. When I show people what I'm capable of, it scares them. I can't pay my rent!" he ranted. "Margaret's happy to kill for me. She _likes_ the leash."

"You're sick," Sam replied.

"You know what else I am?" Jimmy asked. "A real psychic, you dick-bag." He said, raising his hand. Sam's gun flew out of his hands and Angela was psychically pulled to stand next to Sam. "Surprise." Jimmy smirked, picking up the gun.

"Where are the rest of the bones?" Angela asked.

Jimmy clenched his jaw and moved slightly, blocking their path to the bedroom. Sam's brows furrowed and Angela frowned.

"These people don't deserve to die," Angela noted.

"Oh, come on!" Jimmy scoffed. "Are you kidding me? I live in squalor 'cause I can't put on a show like them?"

"Don't do this." Sam pleaded. "They're in the bedroom, aren't they?"

"No," Jimmy replied quickly. He shot at Sam but missed. "You're not getting in there."

Jimmy looked behind himself, and as he did, Sam took out another gun and shot him in the chest. Sam sighed deeply as he stared at the body.

Angela grabbed the skull and looked at Sam. "Sammy, come on."

The couple hurried out of the room and made their way to the bedroom. Angela pulled back the covers on the bed and cringed when she saw the pile of bones. Sam poured lighter fluid and salt onto the bones and Angela set them on fire quickly.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela sat at a table in the Good Graces Café.

"In the bed?" Dean asked with a frown. "They _were in the bed?_ "

"Yeah." Sam and Angela replied.

"Ugh." Dean cringed. "I can't believe he was _boning_ her."

Sam stifled a laugh and Angela groaned.

"Dean!" she chided.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waiter asked when he came by.

"Uh, just a refill," Dean replied. "And if you affirmate me, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

Angela stifled a giggle and Sam looked away and smiled. The waiter faltered slightly and nodded.

"Alrighty then. Coffee, coming up." He replied before walking away.

Dean rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I can't wait to get out of this frickin' fortune cookie."

Sam and Angela noticed Melanie walking into the café.

"Dean." Angela grabbed his attention.

Melanie looked around the café and Dean raised his hand to catch her attention.

"Sammy, let's go outside," Angela suggested. "I gotta talk to you about something."

Sam and Angela stood up and headed for the door, saying hi to Melanie as they passed her.

~/~\~

Angela grabbed Sam's hand and led him to the blue Dodge.

"So, was that just a cover, or did you legitimately wanna talk about something?" Sam asked.

"I want to talk to you about something important." She replied. She paused for a moment and pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. "I think we should go back with Dean." She said bluntly.

Sam sighed deeply. "Angie—

"Uh-uh." Angela cut him off. "Let me explain, okay?"

Sam stared at her for a moment and conceded. "Fine."

"I get that he lied to you Sam and not some little white lie. You have more than every right to be upset with him," Angela started. "But you two need to work through it eventually, and you can't do that if you're not together. Besides—with the Leviathan out there it's not good for Dean to be alone. I'm not saying you have to forgive him right away, but you're _brothers,_ Sammy. And you love him."

Sam stared at Angela and eventually nodded in agreement. "You're right…you are." 

"We don't have a lot of family left, Sammy." She murmured. "Let's keep the family we do have while we can."

Sam smiled softly and leaned down to kiss her. "Thank you for being the voice of reason."

Angela smiled up at Sam and shrugged. "Someone's gotta keep you boys in line."

Sam grinned and pecked her cheek before he grabbed their bags from the car they had been using. He put them into the trunk of the Dodge as Dean walked up.

"Hey." Dean greeted.

"Hey," Sam replied.

"That's your and Angie's stuff," Dean noted.

"Yeah. Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Figured we'd take one car," Angela added with a small smile.

"Works for me," Dean replied with a nod. "You still want to break my face?" he asked Sam.

Sam smiled slightly. "No. Uh, not at this moment." Sam replied. "Look, you know what? Angie talked some sense into me, and, um, you were right. About Amy. If she was…just any monster, I'm not sure I could have let her walk away. I mean, I'll never know."

"So, what are you saying?" Dean asked.

"What I'm saying is…I get why you did it," Sam answered. "You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here's the thing. You can't just look me or Angie in the face and tell us you're fine. I mean, you're not sleeping, you drink for the record—

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

"Look, whatever." Sam shrugged. "Last one to preach, I know. But…just be honest with us. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?"

"You want me to be honest?" Dean pursed his lips.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"I went with my gut," Dean replied. "And that felt right. I didn't trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I'm having a hard time trusting anybody. And as far as how I been acting…I don't know. Maybe it's 'cause I don't like lying to you. You know, it doesn't feel right. So, yeah, you got me there. I've been climbing the walls."

"I know how that is." Sam sighed. "But, hey…if I learned one thing from that museum, sibling acts are tough."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't compare us to that hall of crazy." He scoffed as he walked to the driver's side. "We're like the poster kids of functional family life compared to them."

"It's a low bar," Angela noted.

"Well, hey…" Dean shrugged. "Grading on a curve has got me past everything since kindergarten, so don't knock it, Angie."

"Whatever you say." Angela laughed.

The three hunters got into the car and Sam frowned.

"I still want to know how that guy bent my spoon."

Dean snorted. "Forget it, Sam. It's Lily Dale."


	15. Season 7, Time for a Wedding Part 1

Dean was drinking a beer with a blonde waitress while sitting at a table with his back to the dancers on stage.

"Okay, you won't believe it." The waitress warned. "People think I just say it to get a bigger tip."

"Try me." Dean smiled.

"Fine. I'm in grad school." She shrugged. "See? Okay?" she responded to the look on Dean's face. "There's a look." She laughed. "Okay? Stop."

"No, this is my 'I dig smart chicks' look," Dean assured. "Now, if they, uh, if they wore that, I…I wouldn't have dropped out of school."

The waitress giggled. "So, what's your deal?"

Dean's eyebrows raised. "My deal?"

"Yeah, okay. You came in here looking like somebody shot your puppy." The waitress replied.

"Well, things are looking up now that your shift's over," Dean smirked. "Alright. Uh, here's the deal. I have this friend. He's got this younger brother. Right? Cannon's a little loose. You know, his reactor blew a while back. It's not good. Um…My friend—he's, uh…he's kind of been sitting, waiting to see if he goes guano again."

"And I assume it just hit the fan?" the waitress asked.

"Well, that's the thing." Dean sighed. "It _didn't._ The kid's all _reasonable_ now, considering he's crazy. Well, he's—I mean, he's not crazy. He—he's starting to seem like things might be getting a little better."

"Well, that's a good thing, right?" the waitress asked.

"It's a freakin' miracle!" Dean replied. "Except…when it happens during their, uh…their sacred annual pilgrimage to Vegas…and he goes off on some granola-munching hike in the desert by himself."

"Well, maybe he just needs some time alone." The waitress shrugged.

"Yeah." Dean sighed.

"We all need to face ourselves sometime."

"Maybe he does." Dean agreed.

The waitress smiled softly. "Wasn't talking about him."

Dean's phone started ringing and he frowned. "Excuse me," he replied, answering his phone. "Angie?" he asked. "Really? Four blocks away? Alright." He said before hanging up.

"See?" the waitress grinned. "Baby bro needs you after all."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela walked down the hallway of a white chapel. Dean was dressed in a suit and Angela a light blue sundress and matching flats. As they walked the lights started to flicker and Dean drew his gun. Angela looked around the building, confusion all over her face. As Dean moved to open the double doors at the end of the hallway, Sam opened the doors from the inside. Sam was wearing a suit and a pink boutonniere. Angela frowned in confusion and Dean pointed his gun at Sam.

"Dean. Angie." Sam greeted with a smile. "It's okay. You won't need that." He took the gun. "Come on."

Sam led Dean and Angela into the chapel. An unknown man and woman were sitting against the wall reading a book and working on a crossword puzzle.

"I thought you were out, uh, becoming one with the land or some crap." Dean frowned.

"Angie, I'm so happy that you decided to show up." Sam smiled softly. "Dean, here, you got to…" he moved Dean into position. "Alright. Now…"

Dean looked at the man and woman. "Hi." He greeted.

Sam pinned a pink carnation boutonniere on Dean and Dean frowned.

"What is this?" Dean asked.

"Uh, apparently, uh, pink is for loyalty," Sam replied.

"Alright, so, what's the pretext? What are we—uh, wedding crashers, huh?" Dean asked. "We lookin' for some kind of siren or what?"

"No." Sam chuckled. "Nothing like that. Alright, um…So, a little sudden. But life is short, so I'll keep this shorter. I'm in love. And I'm getting married."

Angela's brows furrowed. "Well, uh, why didn't I get the memo? 'Cause I sure as hell don't remember you proposing."

Dean just stared at Sam for a few moments. "What?"

Wagner's _'Bridal Chorus'_ started to play and a woman in a wedding dress and veil entered the room.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"I second that." Angela agreed. "That's not me, so who the hell are you marrying, Sam?!"

The woman in the wedding dress stopped in front of the three hunters and Sam lifted her veil.

Angela went wide-eyed. "Becky?!" she practically shrieked.

~/~\~

"How in the—how the hell did this happen?" Angela asked, glaring at Becky.

"Short version? We—we—we met. We ate and—and talked and fell in love." Sam shrugged. "And, you know, here we are."

"Yeah, I-I guess we're all caught up." Dean smiled sarcastically.

"Look, I've read every book, you know?" Becky defended. "I _know_ Sam."

"I lived through that crap with him!" Angela snapped.

"I'm gonna be sick," Dean muttered.

Angela folded her arms across her chest. "She's gotta be a shifter or s-something!"

"Nope." Becky held out her arm, which had a small cut on it. "Not a monster. Just the _right_ girl for Sam. Sorry, Angela."

A man walked up and handed a folder to Sam and Becky. "The bill."

"I got it." Becky grabbed it. "You guys catch up." She added before walking away. "Um, do you take traveler's checks?"

Dean waited until Becky was out of earshot. "Really?! Super-fan 99?!"

"Guys, look. Honest to God, I-I had the same opinion of her as you do." Sam replied. "but when we got past the whole book thing, I found out t-that she's great and I was the dick."

"And you just _forgot_ that we've been dating?" Angela raised her brows.

"Also, uh…Becky randomly showing up during Vegas week?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah." Sam shrugged. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying maybe she knew you were gonna be here," Dean replied. "Maybe, uh, uh, uh, Chuck wrote about it."

"Dean, you're paranoid." Sam retorted.

"And you're in love with Becky?!" Angela snapped. "It's _Becky_!"

"You know what, guys? You know what? Um, how about this?" Sam sighed. "Becky and I are going up to her place in Delaware. Um, why don't you wrap your heads around this, get a little supportive, then give us a call?" he suggested before walking over to Becky.

Angela stood next to Dean, practically fuming. "I'm gonna kill her."

"Not in public," Dean replied.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were walking to the blue Dodge. Dean was on the phone leaving Bobby a message.

"Bobby. Hey." Dean said. "I know you're, uh, beard-deep in that Oregon nest. Angie and I are headed to Delaware to do a little snoopin' around. Sam is there with his wife. And no, he and Angie did not get married. Call us."

~/~\~

A car with _'Just Hitched'_ written on the rear window pulled into the parking lot of Uncle Dietz's Alpen Haus Restaurant. A sign read: _Welcome Class of 2001, 10 Year Reunion._

"I thought we just ate," Sam commented.

"Quick stop." Becky smiled.

~/~\~

Becky walked up to Jocelyn, who was on the phone.

"Let me call you back. Just get a sitter. It's not calculus." She said before hanging up. "Yes. Can I help you?" she asked Becky.

"It's Becky. Becky Rosen." Becky smiled.

"Ohh!" Jocelyn giggled. "Yechie Becky!"

"Ha," Becky replied, unamused. "Long time ago."

"Yechie Becky! Oh!" she laughed. "Well, you look just the same, don't you?"

"I'm here to RSVP for the reunion if it's not too late," Becky replied.

"No, no, there is always room for one more." Jocelyn smiled.

"Actually…" Becky started as Sam walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's Rosen-Winchester. So mark me down 'plus one'."

~/~\~

As Sam and Becky left the restaurant, Becky typed something on her phone.

"Jocelyn Caruso roasted." She said as she typed. Becky looked up and saw someone she knew and ran over to him. "Hi, Guy!" she grinned, hugging him.

"You're back!" Guy grinned. "How was Vegas?"

"It was awesome!" Becky replied, showing off her ring.

"Really? Really?"

"Guy, meet my husband, Sam." Becky introduced.

Guy looked at Sam and frowned slightly, but quickly recovered. "Hey. It's an honor to meet you, Sam."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "You too."

"Guy's a really good friend," Becky explained. "We met in the erotic horror section at the novel hovel."

"Oh, my God, Becky." Guy groaned. "Come on! TMI! Poor guy's just met me."

"No, it's okay." Sam smiled. "Nice to meet you. Look, any friend of Becky's…"

Guy nodded and paused. "Anyway, I should, uh, get back to it, or this party's not gonna happen, right?"

"Sure." Sam nodded.

Guy walked away and Becky turned to Sam.

"Guy's an event planner," Becky explained. "Reunion season is very busy for him. Hold on one sec?" she added before running over to Guy.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela drove up just as Sam was getting into the _'Just Married'_ car. Angela huffed angrily as the car drove away.

"Angie, it's gonna be fine," Dean assured. "We'll figure this whole mess out."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela took a seat at the bar, and Dean took out John's journal. He noticed an article in the Pike Creek Chronicle newspaper with the headline _'Truck kills pedestrian in freak accident. Victim a recent lottery winner'._

"You up for checking out a case?" Dean asked Angela.

Angela looked at Dean and nodded. "Sure. As long as I get to kill something."

Dean paused for a moment. "Remind me to never majorly piss you off."

~/~\~

Sam was in Becky's apartment seated at a table that was set for a candlelit dinner. Becky came into the room wearing a black and white negligee dress. The Association's _'Cherish'_ played on the radio.

"Wow." Sam breathed. "Y-you look n-nice."

"Thanks!" Becky smiled. "I was, you know…saving it." She added shyly. She grabbed her glass of champagne and lifted it. "To us."

"To us." Sam raised his glass. He winced and held his hands to his head, groaning in pain.

"Sam?" Becky asked, concerned. "Are you okay? Sammy, honey, what's wrong?"

"Becky?" Sam asked, confused. "W-why am I…What am I doing here? Where's Angie?"

Becky sat on Sam's lap and kissed him. He grunted in pain and put his hands to his head again. Becky poured the purple liquid from the vial that Guy gave to her into Sam's champagne glass and held it to his mouth, forcing him to drink.

"We're celebrating, dear," Becky said. "Remember?"

"Uh…yeah, yeah, of course." Sam nodded. "To us."

"Feeling better, honey?" Becky asked.

Sam licked his lips. "Now that I'm with you."

~/~\~

Dean rang the doorbell and Angela stood next to him, practically seething. Dean held a box containing a waffle iron and it was tied with a red ribbon. Sam opened the door.

"Us being supportive," Dean said. "Right, Angie?"

Angela just clenched her jaw and folded her arms across her chest.

"Angie?" Dean nudged her.

"Fine." She grumbled. "Congratulations to you and the missus." She forced out.

"Thanks," Sam replied as he took the box from Dean.

"It's a waffle iron. Nonstick. Yeah, you just, uh…" Dean mimed closing the waffle iron and turning the dial. "I actually don't know how to use it. Are we good?"

Sam shrugged and smiled briefly. Dean walked into the apartment, Angela on his heels.

"Good, 'cause we're sniffing a case in this town," Dean noted. "The score is…Guy wins Powerball, gets squished by a truck. Second guy went from the bench to the Majors. Oh, and one week later, his face was the catcher's mitt, huh?"

"Our first thought was crossroads demons, but there's that 10-year time frame on collecting souls," Becky said from the bedroom.

Sam led the way into the bedroom, where Becky stood in front of a wall headed 'Sam and Becky's Investigation' where all their research was.

"Then there's cursed object." Becky continued. "Like in 'Bad Day at Black Rock', but we haven't been able to connect the vics yet."

Angela clenched her jaw. "You're working this case…together?"

"Yeah. I know. Right?" Sam smiled. "I mean, I guess all those Chuck Shurley books paid off."

Angela walked up to Becky, glowering at her. "Alright, listen, you psycho, I don't know what kind of mojo you're working, but, believe me, I will find out."

"Whoa, Angie, that's…my wife, you're talking to," Sam warned.

"You're not even acting like yourself, Sam!" Angela yelled.

"How am I not?" Sam asked calmly.

"Uh, you married Becky Rosen!" Angela retorted. "We were together when you left and now you're married, Sam!"

"What are you saying?" Becky challenged. "I'm a witch? Or maybe I'm a siren. Ever occur to you that we're just—I don't know—happy?"

Angela pursed her lips. "Dean, pull me away from her. Because I will hurt her." Angela said, glaring at Becky dangerously.

Dean quickly pulled Angela away from Becky. "Look, obviously people's dreams are coming true in this town. Don't you think this is a little bit of a coincidence?"

"You know what?" Sam cut in. "What Becky and I have is real. And if you guys can't accept that, that's your problem, not ours."

"Or maybe she's part of it," Angela replied. "Because for whatever reason, you're her dream. If you really do care about her, I'd be worried. Because people who do get their little fantasies or whatever seem to end up dead pretty quick."

Sam squared his shoulders. "You know, I went after her, Angie. Maybe that's what's bugging you—that I didn't want you anymore." He responded. "That Becky is the woman who makes me happy."

Angela stared Sam down and clenched her jaw tightly. "Dean, get me out of here. Or I swear to God, I'm going to hurt someone." She said in a dangerously calm voice.

Dean grabbed Angela's arm gently and led her out of the apartment quickly.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were walking towards the Dodge and Dean had Bobby on speaker.

"We don't want another hunter, Bobby." Angela groaned. "Why can't you do it?" she added as they got into the car.

"Ugh! Fine." Dean sighed. "What's his name?"

~/~\~

Becky was sitting on the edge of the bed while she drew a heart in a journal in which 'Sam loves Becky' had been written over and over. She raised the journal to her face and inhaled deeply, leaving red ink on her nose.

"Hey," Sam said suddenly. "Uh…"

Becky closed the journal and stood up quickly. Sam was leaning against the doorway holding a newspaper. He walked over to Becky, wet his thumb, and rubbed the ink off her nose.

"I got you a present." Sam grinned, holding up two IDs.

Becky grinned up at him. "His and hers fake IDs?! Oh!"

They sat down on the bed and Sam handed Becky the newspaper.

"Here," Sam said. "Check this out."

"Junior salesman leapfrogs to CEO at Mutual Freedom Insurance." Becky read. "You think the CEO is a lead?"

"Uh, Becky?" Sam asked, looking at the journal. "This is…" he trailed off. "Beautiful." He finished, closing the journal. He held it to his chest and looked at Becky. "So, what do you think about the CEO?"

"Let's go pretext him!" Becky said excitedly.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were walking through the restaurant looking for someone. They stopped near a table where a gruff looking man sat and frowned when a woman sat across from him.

"Hey," Garth called from behind them. "You Dean and Angela?" he asked before he slurped from a milkshake. "Hmm. I thought you'd be taller." He frowned at Dean. Garth turned his attention towards Angela and blinked a few times. "And Bobby didn't tell me how pretty you were!"

Dean and Angela sat down across from Garth.

"I assume Bobby filled you in on the road," Angela commented.

"He told me two things," Garth replied. "One, he's tangling with a major-league nest up in Oregon territory. Numero dos, he said you two would be all surly working with me. But, hey, sticks and stones."

Dean sighed and put a newspaper down on the table. "Think we found a case. Check the headline."

"First things first." Garth flipped through the newspaper. He found what he was looking for and laughed. "Oh, Marmaduke, you're crazy!"

Dean closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Dean, he's like a puppy." Angela practically cooed.

~/~\~

Marsha was standing next to a secretary's desk. Dean, Garth, and Angela were sitting on a sofa in front of the desk.

"Are you trying to humiliate me?" Marsha asked. "It's Marsha with an 's-h-a', not a 'c-i-a'."

Marsha walked away briskly. Sam and Becky left the office behind the secretary's desk.

"Thanks again." Sam smiled at the secretary.

Garth frowned. "Hey, is that—

"Yes." Dean cut him off.

"Awkward," Garth muttered.

Dean and Angela walked over to Sam and Becky.

"Hi." Angela forced a smile.

Becky made an unfriendly face at Angela and walked away.

"Okay." Angela chuckled. "So…"

"So, uh, no point in going in." Sam shrugged. "Guy's clean."

"You sure?" Angela asked.

"Yeah. Positive. Becky grilled him like a pro." Sam replied with a proud smile. "She's a real natural."

"Huh," Dean muttered.

Sam nodded at Garth. "What's with the scrawny guy?"

"His name is Garth," Angela replied.

"He's a temp," Dean added.

~/~\~

Dean, Garth, and Angela sat across from the CEO.

"Throw a rock, hit a reporter these days, eh?" the CEO joked.

"Well, your story's a big deal over at the, uh, the _Actuarial Insider_." Dean smiled.

"Go ahead. Shoot."

"Alright. Uh…how'd you get the gig?" Angela asked.

"Board came to me, asked. Said yes." The man shrugged.

"Just out of the blue?" Angela raised her brows.

"Pretty much." The man nodded.

"Huh," Dean replied. "And, uh, any idea how the board landed on you over your supervisors?"

"Um, they didn't say." The CEO shrugged.

"Could you tell us what specifically excited the board about your actual qualifications?" Dean pressed.

"Say, what's with the third degree?" The CEO laughed slightly.

"Oh, uh, no offense. We were just wondering if you got here by nefarious means." Garth replied.

"Whoa! Garth!" Dean exclaimed.

"Oh. Uh, I-I didn't mean, of course, uh, corporate backstabbing—I'm sorry." Garth backtracked. "I meant more like, uh, you know, black magic or hoodoo."

Dean and Angela laughed.

"He jokes," Angela replied. "He's a—he's a jokester. Let's rewind. Why don't, uh, why don't you tell us what it felt like when your big dream came true?"

The man sighed. "Look, on the record, it's great."

"Off the record?" Dean asked curiously.

"It's not my big dream." The man sighed.

Garth frowned. "Wait. You didn't want this job?"

"Hell, no. I'm a sales guy. I was good in sales."

Marsha appeared in the doorway, looking angry. "Your secretary's an idiot. I'll be at the printers this afternoon."

"Alright, dear." The man smiled. "See you at dinner."

"Just have the idiot makes a reservation. Here's a tip—remind her she works for the CEO. One more screw-up, she's fired." Marsha replied before leaving.

"Your, uh, wife seems pretty stoked on the promotion, don't she?" Garth asked.

"Honestly, I've never seen her happier. I have no idea how I'm gonna tell her I have to resign. The news is just gonna—

"Kill her?" Garth raised a brow.

~/~\~

"Mrs. Burrows?" Dean asked, following her down the staircase. "Hi."

"Can I help you?" Marsha asked.

"Yes, we're doing a story on your husband's promotion," Angela replied. "Wanted to ask you a few questions."

"I'm sorry. I can't today." Marsha replied. "If you schedule it with his girl…"

Marsha turned to leave and Dean put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Okay, you what? I'm trying to save you from a really bad accident." Dean warned.

Marsha frowned. "Are you threatening me?"

"No," Dean replied quickly, removing his hand from her shoulder. "No, I-I-I'm pointing out a pattern. Why do people keep thinking I'm threatening them?"

"Because it sounded exactly like a threat, dude," Garth interjected.

"Look, for your own good, what did you do to get him promoted?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Marsha lied. "Now leave me alone. Or do I have to call security?"

~/~\~

Sam was standing in front of wall studying his and Becky's research. "No, no, no, something's not adding up."

"I'm sure we'll get a break," Becky assured as she typed on her phone. "As soon as we're done working, romantic honeymoon getaway." She said as she typed.

Sam groaned in pain and held his hands to his head. Becky frowned and ran to get the vial from her handbag. She frowned when she saw that the vial was empty and had leaked all over her purse.

~/~\~

Marsha stopped under a light fixture as she talked on the phone. The chain holding the light fixture broke and Marsha screamed. At the last moment, Dean grabbed Marsha and they both fell to the floor out of harm's way.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"How did you know?" Marsha asked.

"Because you're not the first," Angela replied. "Come on."

"You want to tell us what's up here?" Garth questioned.

Marsha sighed. "I was having lunch with friends. This guy heard me bitching. Next thing I know, he's making me an offer."

"An offer?" Dean frowned.

"Craig's job for my soul," Marsha replied. "I know. Hilarious. I mean, what have I got to lose?"

"Well, there's your soul," Garth replied. "What kind of demon deal is this? Timeline's whack."

Marsha's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about? Demon?"

"Let me back up here," Garth replied. "You made a deal with a demon in exchange for your everlasting. Except those are 10-year contracts. Why'd the bill coming due so fast?"

Angela frowned. "I don't know, but I got a bad feeling about who's next. We got to find Sam, pronto."

"Alright, alright, alright." Garth nodded. "Uh, here's the plan. I drop this lady off at my cousin's. He'll stop anything trying to get her. We, uh, find Sam, hopefully, fix this, everybody's home in time for _'America's Got Talent'_." He explained. "Now, you," he looked at Marsha. "You'll be living with a tri-racial paraplegic sniper until this all blows over, okay?"

~/~\~

"Guy, where are you?" Becky said into the phone. "We need to meet up, fast!" she added as Sam continued groaning. "I'm losing Sam."

"Becky…" Sam groaned. "W-what's—what's happening?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked. "We're married!"

"Oh, g—I'm calling Angie," Sam replied.

Becky hit Sam over the head from behind with the waffle iron, causing him to fall to the ground.


	16. Season 7, Time for a Wedding Part 2

Sam woke up and blinked a few times, frowning when he realized that he was tied to the bed.

"Sam, do you feel concussion-y? How many fingers am I holding up?" Becky asked, waving her hand.

"Where am I? What the hell's going on?" Sam asked, brows furrowed.

"Sam…Just calm down," Becky replied gently.

"Calm down?!" Sam yelled. "You hogtied me t—Becky, why—why am I not wearing any pants?"

"They're very constricting," Becky replied, causing Sam to groan in disgust. "Don't worry." She giggled. "I didn't do anything _weird._ I was helping."

"Let me go," Sam demanded. "Now!"

Becky flinched slightly. "Are you thirsty? Or do you need a bottle…to, you know, tinkle? It's okay if you do. I can help."

Sam groaned again. Suddenly, a beeping came from another room.

"Finally!" Becky hurried to open her laptop.

"Wait. What? Wait." Sam replied. "Becky? Becky. Hey, hey, don't! Don't! Becky!"

The laptop buffered and then Guy's face appeared on the screen.

"Where have you been?" Becky asked.

 _"I got your messages,"_ Guy replied. _"Problem?"_

Sam could see the screen and heard the conversation from the bed.

"Big problem." Becky sighed. "I'm at my parents' cabin. I've got Sam tied to a bed. I'm out of elixir. I need a refill, okay? This isn't the honeymoon I had in mind. Well, some of it is, but not in this context. And is it just me, or is this stuff wearing off faster and faster?!"

 _"Becky…Breathe."_ Guy sighed.

"Do you know we haven't even consummated our marriage?" Becky frowned. "We were taking it slow 'cause true love is forever, but everything just feels weird now."

 _"Alright. Meet me in an hour."_ Guy replied.

Becky ended the call and went back into the bedroom.

"So, you dosed me with a love potion," Sam commented.

Becky frowned. "How—

"Thin walls," Sam interjected.

"Look…Yes, I used a _social lubricant_ to—

"You _roofied_ me!" Sam yelled.

"A roofie?" She gasped. "I'd never! We had a great time together. You were happy."

"Oh, yeah." Sam rolled his eyes as he tugged at one of the ropes binding his wrists. "I'm thrilled."

"I have to go," Becky replied.

"You know your pal Guy is the one icing all those people, right?" Sam raised his brows.

"No, he's not." Becky denied.

"Oh, so he's _not_ a witch?" Sam scoffed.

"No. He's just a Wiccan." Becky smiled. "Wiccans are good, like Glinda of Oz."

"You're not this stupid, Becky."

"Whatever is killing people…it's something else," Becky assured.

"It's never something else." Sam scoffed. "When are there ever two crazy things in town at the same time? Guy's the creep, and you're on his list."

"No. He's my friend." Becky assured.

"No, he's your dealer." Sam retorted. "Look, I don't know how he's charging you for that Spanish Fly—

"Nothing!" Becky grinned. "He gives it to me. And he said it wouldn't even work unless you already loved me, deep down. It just activates it."

"So, you think I love you?" Sam asked.

"Deep, deep down?"

"Then untie me," Sam replied.

Becky paused and stuffed a handkerchief in Sam's mouth.

"No. No!" Sam's voice was muffled.

"You're still working through your emotions." She murmured.

"Becky!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled by the rag.

"I love you, too!" Becky waved as she left.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Garth entered Becky's apartment, guns drawn. Garth walked through the apartment into the bedroom. Angela grabbed a framed wedding picture of Sam and Becky and shook her head, throwing it on a nearby table.

"Anything?" Angela called out to Garth.

Garth was looking at Becky's laptop, which showed her Twitter page. "Uh, she's got 11 Twitter…ers. Last post—'Going on a romantic trip with hubster!' Three exclamation points. I guess she got excited."

Dean held up a picture of a younger Becky standing outside her parents' cabin with a fishing rod and a fish. "That look romantic to you?"

"Oh, hell, no." Garth shook his head. "But I got this thing about fish. Dead eyes."

Angela took the photo from Dean and removed the back from the frame. She took out the photo and read the writing on the back. "Huh."

~/~\~

Sam struggled against the ropes tying him to the bed and turned his head when he heard someone come into the room. He saw Becky leaning against the doorframe.

"Well…this is not how I imagined spending my reunion." She sighed, disappointed.

Sam replied with something that was muffled by the handkerchief in his mouth.

"I was gonna show you off—not that anyone actually knows who you are." Becky continued. " _Supernatural_ is not exactly popular, but…you're tall…and nice and…They'd all think I was happy." She added, causing Sam to mutter something. "You're mad. I get it. But…" she went and lied down on the bed, resting her head on Sam's chest. "Can we talk?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, God." He muttered through the handkerchief.

"I know you don't love me." Becky sighed deeply.

"Yeah, you got that right," Sam replied, his voice muffled.

Becky teared up slightly. "I know what I am, okay? I'm a loser. In school, in life. Guess that's why I like you so much."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What?"

Becky leaned up on her elbows and looked at Sam. "I mean, not that you're a loser, but you had that whole character arc about being a freak, and…I can relate."

"Oh, my God," Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

Becky sat up on the bed. "Honestly…The only place people understood me was the message boards." She added. "They were grumpy and overly literal, but at least we shared a common passion. And I'll take it, you know? Then I met you guys—the real Sam, Dean, and Angela. And I started dating Chuck." She smiled as she rubbed a hand over Sam's chest. "And everything was…amazing. But you left, and Chuck dumped me." She frowned. "I think I intimidated him with my vibrant sexuality."

Sam replied with something indistinct.

"I just want someone who loves me for me!" Becky cried. "Is that too much to ask?"

Sam tried to say something but it just came out muffled. Becky snatched the handkerchief from his mouth.

"What?" she asked.

Sam licked his lips. "If you want somebody to love you for you, maybe don't drug them."

"But I want you! And this is the only way!" Becky exclaimed, taking the vial out of her pocket.

"Becky." Sam frowned. "Becky, you're better than this."

Becky looked at Sam. "That's sweet, but…I'm not so sure."

~/~\~

Garth, Dean, Angela, and Sam appeared from the next room as Becky trapped Guy in the devil's trap. Garth held up a bottle and waved it.

"Blueberry vodka." He commented. "The answer to all of life's problems."

"You see that, Sam?" Becky grinned as she ran over to him. "I did it just like we said! I am awesome!" she giggled before noticing his unamused expression. "I—I'll be over here."

"Dean Winchester," Guy smirked. "This is really thrilling. Hey, can I have your autograph?"

Dean took out Ruby's knife. "Sure. Yeah, I'll, uh, carve it into your spleen. So, how you running your little scam?"

"Well, how do you mean, Dean?" Guy asked innocently.

"Signing 10-year deals, snuffing 'em that week," Angela replied.

"Well, I would never," Guy replied. "No. Rules of the road—can't lay a hair on any of my clients."

"Right," Dean nodded. "So, how you cheating it?"

"I'm not a cheater." Guy defended. "I'm an innovator. It's called a loophole, you moron. Yes, when a person bargains away his soul, he gets a decade, technically. But accidents happen."

"So, you're arranging 'accidents' and collecting early?" Sam scoffed.

"Oh, please." Guy held up his hands. "White gloves. I don't get my hands dirty. That's why it's important to have a capable intern."

Guy's intern suddenly appeared with his arms raised. Dean, Angela, Sam, and Garth went flying backward, crashing into tables and walls. Ruby's knife ended up in the middle of the floor. Angela looked around, noticing that Sam and Dean were unconscious. Guy appeared in front of Angela, who got to her feet and threw holy water at Guy, causing him to recoil.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis—

Guy grabbed Angela by the throat. Sam and Dean woke up to find the intern advancing on them.

"Becky…run!" Sam yelled.

Garth got to his knees, but the intern sent him sprawling back to the ground with a downwards movement of his arm. The intern made a twisting movement with his hand and Sam and Dean started to choke. Suddenly, a knife protruded from the intern's chest, and the man fell to the ground, revealing Becky.

"Whoa," Becky muttered.

Sam pulled the knife out of the intern and tossed it to Angela, who held it against Guy's throat. Guy released Angela and clenched his jaw.

"How many deals do you have cooking in this town?" Angela glared.

"Fifteen." Guy hissed.

"Yeah, well, call them off, or I'll cut my own loophole in your throat." Angela threatened.

Guy frowned. "Oh, crap."

"Yeah, you said it. You're in a world—

"Hello, Bambi." Crowley greeted. "Boys."

Angela glanced behind herself. "Oh, crap." She muttered. She moved around Guy and held the knife against his throat from behind.

"Sam, Angela, mazeltov," Crowley said.

"We didn't get married." Sam deadpanned. "It's…a long story."

"You're Crowley!" Becky exclaimed excitedly.

Crowley looked Becky over. "And you're—well, I'm sure you have a wonderful personality, dear."

"Ah, another step, and I'll Colombian necktie your little friend here," Angela warned.

"Please, don't let him get off that easy." Crowley scoffed.

Guy frowned. "Sir, I don't think that you—

"I know exactly what you've been doing." Crowley interrupted. "A little birdie named Jackson sold you out, e-mailed all the juicy deets to my suggestion box." He added, glancing at Jackson, aka the intern. "I assume…That's my whistle-blower? Shame. He had a future. Unfortunately, you don't."

"I was just—

"There's only one rule—make a deal, keep it." Crowley glared.

"Well, technically, I didn't—

"There's a reason we don't call our chits in early—consumer confidence. This isn't Wall Street! This is Hell!" Crowley yelled. "We have a little something called integrity. This gets out, who'll deal with us? Nobody! Then where are we?"

"I don't know," Guy replied quietly.

"That's right. You don't." Crowley snarled. "Because you're a stupid, shortsighted little prat. Now, hand the jackass over. I'll cancel every deal he's made."

"What are you gonna do with him?" Dean asked curiously.

"Make an example of him. Fair trade, right? We all go our separate ways. No harm done."

"What, out of the goodness of your heart?" Sam raised his brows.

"Years of demons nipping at your heels, haven't seen one for months," Crowley noted. "Wonder why?"

"We've been a little busy," Dean replied.

"Hunting Leviathan—yes, I know." Crowley nodded. "That's why I told my lads to stay clear of you."

Sam frowned. "So, what do you know about—

"Too much. You met that Dick yet?" Crowley asked. "Smuggest tub of goo since Mussolini. I hate the bastards. Squash 'em all, please. I'll stay clear."

"Rip up the contracts first," Angela demanded.

Crowley snapped his fingers. "Done…and done. Your turn."

Guy shook his head. "No, no, no, no. Let—

Angela shoved Guy towards Crowley.

"Pleasure," Crowley replied before disappearing with Guy.

Garth got up and looked around. "What'd I miss?"

~/~\~

The hunters were in Becky's apartment. Sam was signing an annulment and he slid it across the table to Becky. Angela sat next to Sam.

"It…It wasn't all bad, right?" Becky asked, smiling a small smile.

Sam looked at Becky unsmilingly. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, y-you did save mine and Dean's life, and for that, thanks."

"So, I'll see you again?" Becky asked hopefully.

"Yeah, probably not," Sam replied.

Becky's face fell and she signed the annulment as Dean and Garth looked on.

Sam went to say something, but Angela stopped him.

"Can I just cut in real quick, Sammy?" she asked gently, earning a nod from Sam. Angela looked at Becky and sighed. "I hope you've learned your lesson from all this." She said sternly. "You need to _move on_ , Becky, your...infatuation, and obsession with Sam is out of control," she added. "It's unhealthy, Becky."

Becky nodded and sniffled slightly. "I'm sorry, Angela," she whispered. "Y-you're just the luckiest person on the Earth, t-to be with Sam,"

"Seriously, I'm warning you," Angela narrowed her eyes. "Don't pull something like this again. You'll regret it."

"Look, the right guy will find you, Becky," Sam assured gently. "You're not a loser, okay?"

Becky smiled softly and Garth looked hopefully at Becky, fixing his hair slightly.

Dean frowned and shook his head. "No. _No_."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were leaning on the back of the Dodge while Garth stood next to his truck.

Angela went and hugged Garth. "See you around, Garth." She said before pulling away. Angela gave him an innocent peck on the cheek and leaned back against the Dodge.

A pinkish tint showed up on Garth's face and he smiled softly. "Y'know, Sam's one lucky guy."

Sam wrapped his arm around Angela's waist and kissed the top of her head. "Don't I know it." He smiled.

"Ugh." Dean fake gagged at the show of affection. "Well, buddy, I got to say, man—you, uh…you don't suck." He told Garth.

"Thank you," Garth replied sincerely. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Well…" he trailed off, enveloping Dean in a hug.

Dean awkwardly patted him on the back. "Oh. Yeah. Alright, that's—thank you."

Garth stepped back and waved goodbye as he got into his truck and drove off.

"Take care." Dean waved. "Wow…" he sighed.

"Aww, you made a fwiend." Sam grinned.

"Uh-uh," Dean replied.

"He's sweet." Angela defended.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, uh, I'll give you two some time to talk." He added before getting into the driver's seat.

Sam sighed deeply. "I'm sorry about the whole marrying Becky thing."

Angela shook her head. "No need to apologize, Sammy. She essentially roofied you." She assured.

"You know, I'm surprised that you didn't seriously lay into her," Sam commented. "You were surprisingly calm about everything at the end."

Angela shrugged. "She didn't need me yelling at her. Plus, during the case, I threatened her a few times, so…"

Sam chuckled slightly and then sobered up. "Look, Angie, when I was all doped up, I said some crap."

"You're telling me that Becky Rosen isn't your soulmate?" Angela teased.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I mean, I'm always going to want you, Angie. Hell, I freakin' need you." He replied sincerely. "And all this marriage stuff has got me thinking…you and I should get married."

Angela looked slightly shocked. "A-Are you proposing?"

Sam grinned, opening up the trunk of the car. He fished through his bag and pulled out a small velvet black box. Sam closed the trunk and turned back to Angela. "I've been trying to find the right moment to do this. Angela Morgan, make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" he asked softly.

Angela had happy tears in her eyes and she nodded. "Yes," she replied. "Of course I'll marry you, Sammy." she grinned.

Sam grinned back at her and leaned down to kiss her. Angela stood on her tiptoes to meet him in the middle, tangling her hands in his hair as the kiss deepened. Sam's arms circled around Angela's waist and pulled her against him. After a few moments, the couple broke apart, remaining inches away from each other.

"I love you," she whispered, looking up at Sam.

"I love you, too." Sam murmured as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

The couple got into the back seat together and Dean looked in the rearview mirror. He noticed the ring he had helped Sam pick out was on Angela's finger.

"Atta boy, Sammy." Dean murmured with a smile. Dean turned in his seat to face Sam and Angela, a grin on his face. "Congrats, guys."

Angela's brows furrowed. "You knew Sam was gonna propose?"

"I didn't know he was gonna propose at this _exact_ moment," Dean replied. "But kid, Sammy's been talking about proposing to you for _ages_. Hell, I helped him pick out the ring." he smiled proudly.

Angela grinned and rested her head against Sam's shoulder. "I am on cloud nine right now."


	17. Win Friends & Influence Monsters Part 1

Sam came down the stairs. Dean and Angela were standing at a fuse box.

"Did you strip enough wire?" Sam asked.

"Yes, we stripped enough wire." Dean sighed.

"Alright," Sam replied, attaching cables to the stripped wires. Electricity crackles and the lights came on.

"See?" Dean retorted. "Told you."

Bobby entered the house as Sam took a seat at the table. Angela sat on his lap and Dean and Bobby stood around the table.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" Bobby looked around.

"Yeah. Well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore." Sam replied.

"Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's Bible on this," Bobby noted. "Everybody's out to get you—paranoia is just plain common sense."

"Weeks, guys," Dean interjected. " _Weeks._ We've been living with cold showers, cold Hot Pockets, cold freaking everything! I mean, this is the bottom that we're living in. You guys get that, right?"

Angela just snuggled herself closer to Sam, the guy was like a damn furnace.

"How many big mouths are out there, running card traces, like Chet, or hunting us down God knows what ways?" Bobby asked. "No, now's not the time to be laying our bedrolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it."

Suddenly, the lights went off and Dean sighed, frustrated. Sam turned on a battery-powered lamp.

"That's just great," Dean grumbled. "This is stupid. Our quality of life is crap. We got Purgatory's least wanted everywhere, and we're on our third 'The World's Screwed' issue in, what, three years? We've steered the bus away from the cliff twice already."

"Someone's got to do it." Angela shrugged.

"What if the bus wants to go over the cliff?" Dean questioned.

Sam raised his brows. "You think the world wants to end?"

Dean shrugged. "I think that if we didn't take its belt and all its pens away each year that, yeah, the whole enchilada woulda offed itself already."

"Stop trying to wrestle with the big picture, son," Bobby replied. "You're gonna hurt your head."

Dean sighed and took a beer out of the cooler as he lied down on the sofa.

"So, what's the guff?" Bobby asked as he sat across from Sam and Angela.

"Well, uh, there's been a rash of sightings all over the southern pine barrens—a strange, fast-moving, human-like creature," Angela explained. "Locals even have a name for it."

Sam passed a print-out of an internet search to Bobby. Bobby frowned as he read it over.

"The Jersey Devil?" he asked. "I thought that was just local tall-tale crap."

"The area's history of sightings goes back more than two centuries," Sam explained. "Some accounts gave it bat wings, others horns, a…a tail."

"Don't forget the horse's head, babe," Angela added.

"Oh, uh, yeah. The horse's head." Sam nodded.

"Of course, the sketch looks more like a Chewbacca head," Dean interjected.

"Sounds kind of mixed up," Bobby noted.

"Yeah, kind of like it should be fighting a Japanese robot." Dean sipped his beer.

"Well, mixed up or not, it sounds like it might just have a body count." Sam sighed, sliding Bobby a newspaper article.

"Camping high season harshed by human burrito?" Bobby read.

"Yeah," Angela replied. "Something hung a camper up in a tree, then ate him alive right through his sleeping bag."

"His wife hasn't been seen, either," Sam added. "Plus, there have been four other missing persons reported in the last three weeks. State troopers—get this—are saying it's a rogue bear."

"Yeah, of course, when was the last time you saw a bear string up its own piñata?" Dean snorted.

Bobby frowned deeply. "Something's out there in the woods. Hey, we're going honest to goodness wilderness hunting. I haven't used my .30-30 in a while."

"Okay, Davey Crockett, well, safari's gonna have to wait till tomorrow after our suit-and-tie dance," Dean replied. "We'll make sure this is not just some backwoods crackhead who likes to roll glampers."

Bobby looked confused. "What the hell's a glamper?"

"Sam? Angie?" Dean asked.

"High-end camper. TV, A.C., Wi-Fi." Sam shrugged.

"Back to nature, zero inconvenience." Angela added.

"That's idiotic," Bobby replied.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Some people just don't know how to live."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were at a table with Ranger Rick, who was eating a sandwich.

"So, Ranger Evans—

"Oh, uh, you can call me Rick." He smiled at Angela. "Ranger Rick."

Angela nodded. "Right. Uh, you were the one that found Mitchell Rayburn, correct?"

"The human burrito." Rick nodded.

"State police have it down as a bear attack," Sam noted.

Rick laughed. "Yeah, I read what the state police says. That was no rogue brown."

"Apparently, some others reported seeing something a little, you know, weirder," Angela commented.

"You know, I've been a ranger for 12 years. Tell you the truth, we have no idea what's out there." Rick explained. "Big. Lots of trees and whatnot. Tell you this, though. You got to respect Mother Nature. You respect her, or she's gonna string you up, and she'll eat your ass right through the Gore-Tex."

Angela's brows furrowed. "So, you're thinking it's Mother Nature?"

"See, me and Phil, we've been finding, uh, something's leftovers for weeks—deer remains, badger, missing pets," Rick explained.

"Who's Phil?" Sam asked curiously.

"Assistant Chief Ranger." Rick smiled. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen Phil in a couple of days. He's supposed to call from whatever station he's checking off."

"But you think that maybe your assistant chief ranger might be missing?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"I should probably report that," Rick muttered.

Sam and Angela noticed that Dean and Bobby had entered the restaurant.

"Oh. Excuse us." Angela smiled politely. "Um…enjoy your lunch."

Sam and Angela walked over to Dean and Bobby.

"So?" Angela asked.

"Well, we took a look at the cadaver—what's left of it." Bobby sighed. "Not a happy camper. Don't have any stats on a Jersey Devil, but the bite radius on the vic's wounds—it's too small for a Leviathan."

"And he's still got a ventricle and some change," Dean added. "So, I doubt we're talking werewolf. And a wendigo doesn't leave scraps." He shrugged.

"Hmm." Angela nodded.

"How about lunch?" Dean suggested, looking at everyone.

"Starving." Bobby agreed.

Dean hailed a passing waiter. "Hey! Uh, Brandon. We grab a booth?"

"Hey, uh, douchewad, a hostess will seat you." Brandon sassed. "Do I look like a freaking hostess?"

Dean paused and sputtered a bit. "Do you want to look like a hostess?"

Sam cracked and smile and Angela giggled as Brandon walked away.

"That didn't really make sense, what you…said." Sam nudged Dean.

Dean frowned, confused. "What was that?"

"I sure hope we don't get Brandon's section," Bobby noted.

~/~\~

Brandon set a plate down in front of Angela. "Garden salad for the princess," he snarked condescendingly before setting a plate in front of Sam, who was next to Angela. "Sidewinder soup and salad combo goes to Big Bird," he added. "TDK slammer to Ken Doll, and a little heart-smart for creepy uncle."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What is your problem?"

"You are my problem!" Brandon yelled before storming off.

"Oh, Brandon's got a flare all in a bunch," Bobby muttered.

"Yeah. There goes his 18 percent." Sam added.

"Anyway, chief ranger—I don't think he believes in the Jersey Devil." Angela changed the subject.

Sam looked at Angela. "Oh, oh, by the way, did he seem a little, uh, stoned to you?"

"Ranger Rick?" Angela snorted. "Yeah. Definitely growing his own on the back 40 and smoking all the profits."

Sam laughed at that. "Well, he did seem to think that there was something—

"Oh, that is good sandwich," Dean said suddenly with his mouth full.

Bobby frowned. "What the hell did you get?"

Dean turned a card on the table promoting the special. "New Pepperjack Turducken Slammer—limited time only."

Bobby grimaced. "Bunch of birds shoved up inside each other. Shouldn't play God like that."

"Hey, don't look at me sideways from that—that Chinese chicken geezer salad there, okay?" Dean retorted. "This is awesome. Like the perfect storm of your top-three edible birds."

"Alright," Sam cut in. "Anyways, um, the ranger did seem to think there was something out in Wharton Forest."

"Well, then I'd say it's safari time." Bobby sighed.

"She's big-boned!" Someone yelled, causing the hunters to look at the scene.

"Look at her!" Brandon yelled back. "You're telling me she's not fat?"

"Hey." A waiter cut in.

"Up yours, Mike. Shove it right up yours!" Brandon yelled, taking off his apron before storming out.

"Well, anyway, back to bigger and better things." Dean shrugged, continuing to eat his sandwich.

~/~\~

Bobby, Angela, Sam, and Dean were walking through the forest. All four hunters were carrying rifles, but just Dean and Bobby carried packs. Sam and Angela walked hand-in-hand.

Bobby stopped to look at a tuft of hair on a bush. "Couple of bucks. Head-butting over turf probably. Pretty sure the other fella won."

"I guess I forgot," Sam noted. "Before you were a hunter, you were actually a… hunter."

"Yeah, well, we shot our dinner when I was a kid," Bobby replied.

"You used to take us hunting. Remember?" Dean recalled. "Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you. Shoot, you must have taught us most of the outdoor tracking we know."

"Yeah, what I could get to stick." Bobby scoffed. "I never could get you little grubs to pull a trigger on a single deer."

"You're talking about Bambi, man." Dean defended.

"You don't shoot Bambi, jackass." Bobby rolled his eyes. "You shoot Bambi's mother."

The four hunters looked up at a bloodied arm hanging from a tree.

"Well, looks like we found Phil." Dean sighed.

~/~\~

The four hunters returned to the forest that night, Ranger Rick meeting them in his truck.

"Special Agents," he got out of the vehicle. "Listen, I got your call. But I'm not sure I got what you were saying."

Dean just pointed upwards at the arm with his flashlight.

"Hey. I think we found Phil." Rick commented.

"That's what I said." Dean chuckled.

"Uh, I should probably call this in."

"Yeah, yeah." Angela nodded. "Solid move, Rick."

Rick went to his truck and spoke into the radio. "Uh, this is Ranger Evans up at Archer's Point. Come in. Uh, repeat. This is Chief Ranger Evans."

"Chief Ranger, go ahead."

"I have a situation out at Archer's Point," Rick replied.

Bobby frowned, hearing a rustling noise. "Ranger, I think we've got company."

"Yeah?" Rick smiled. "Who's that?" he asked before being dragged off into the tree.

"Ranger!" Sam yelled, running to follow the creature.

~/~\~

"Ranger Evans! Ranger!" Angela called.

Bobby frowned as there was a rustling in the trees. "It's got him up in the trees." He said. "Lights off."

"What?" Dean asked, lowering his rifle.

"Wait, Bobby, you think that's really a good idea?" Sam asked.

"Shut up, shut off, and listen," Bobby commanded.

The three younger hunters did as they were told and turned off their lights. A chewing sound could be heard from the trees.

"Damn thing's eating Rick," Bobby muttered.

"Man, I liked Rick." Dean sighed.

Sam, Angela, and Bobby looked at Dean, brows furrowed. Bobby closed his eyes and fired up into the tree. A humanoid creature fell to the ground.

"Wow." Dean breathed. "Nice shot, Bobby."

"Seriously." Angela agreed.

"We all got our gifts." Bobby shrugged.

"What about the rest of Ranger Rick?" Dean looked at Bobby.

"Ranger called in his 10-20. His own will find him. We got crap to do."

~/~\~

Angela and Bobby walked into the old house while the brothers put the creature on the table.

"Built like a supermodel, but the thing was strong," Bobby noted. "That's for damn sure. Carried a full-grown man up a tree in nothing flat."

"But, it only took one bullet to bring it down," Angela added.

"And not even a silver bullet, just a bullet-bullet," Dean commented.

Suddenly the creature sat upright and stood on the table. The four hunters pulled out their guns and fired at it multiple times, causing it to fall back on the table.

"First one must have just stunned it." Bobby's brows furrowed.

"Alright, well, let's check its hulk pants for some ID." Dean sighed, taking out a wallet. He frowned as he opened it. "Oh, that is just gonna ruin the leather."

Sam snatched the wallet from Dean and Angela frowned in concern.

"Dean, are you okay?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, I feel great." Dean shrugged.

"Gerald Browder," Sam read off the ID. "Uh, lived here in town, 5'9", brown hair and blue eyes…235 pounds."

"Whoa." Dean whistled.

"No way." Angela's brows furrowed as they looked at the creature.

"Well, apparently, he's lost a little pudge," Bobby muttered.

"Maybe it's a-a lap-band side effect." Dean laughed.

Dean laughed, but Sam, Angela, and Bobby did not. Bobby poked a stick inside one of the bullet wounds in the creatures, watching as it dripped gray goo.

"What the hell?" Bobby asked. "I think we better have a look under Gerald's hood."

~/~\~

Bobby, Sam, and Angela were examining the creature's open chest cavity using forceps.

"God!" Bobby groaned. "Its organs are swimming in the stuff."

Dean came into the room, pouring himself a drink. "You guys getting hungry? I'm hungry?"

"What's this?" Angela asked, ignoring Dean.

"His stomach," Bobby replied. "For a guy on a diet, Gerry here packed it in pretty good."

"That's human right there." Sam pointed out.

"That's fresh Rick." Bobby corrected. "Let's see. Plus…a pine cone? Pack of gum in the wrapper."

"That's—that's older. Maybe like a—maybe Ranger Phil or the camper." Angela said.

"What's that?" Bobby frowned.

Sam cringed. "Looks like a—yeah, that's a—that's a cat's head."

Bobby's frown deepened. "A glamper or two is one thing, but you got to be damn hungry to eat a cat's head."

"Mm-hmm." Sam and Angela agreed.

"Well, lookit here," Bobby said suddenly. "I'm not Dr. Oz, but…" he took out a large, lumpy, black object out of the creature's body. "I think that's his adrenal glands."

"Okay. And?" Angela asked.

"Meant to be the size of hotel bar soap…and bright orange," Bobby replied.

Bobby, Sam, and Angela winced at the smell.

"Yikes," Angela muttered.

"Alright, that might help explain the strength." Sam sighed. "Um, but whatever this thing is, it's not the Jersey Devil, but it sure as hell ain't Gerald Browder anymore."

"Okay, guys, seriously," Dean whined. "It's time for dinner?"

~/~\~

The four hunters were back at Biggerson's and Dean was eating the TDK Slammer. Sam was reading from the New Jersey Police Missing Persons Agency website on his laptop.

"Gerald Browder, 35, self-employed." Sam read. "Air-conditioning repairman. Missing person number three. Disappeared eight days ago."

"Well, that explains all the people who got eaten in the last eight days," Bobby replied.

"Yeah. Question is, what happened to him?" Angela asked with a frown.

Dean groaned happily as he ate his sandwich.

"Dean." Sam tried to get his attention. "Uh, so, what do you think?"

"I'm not that worried about it," Dean replied through a mouthful.

"Excuse me?" Bobby asked, making sure he heard right.

"That's funny, right?" Dean laughed. "I could give two shakes of a rat's ass. Is that right? Do rats shake their ass, or is it something else? Eh."

Angela looked around the restaurant and noticed that a majority of the customers were eating the TDK Slammer. "Give me that." She snatched the sandwich away from Dean.

"Whoa, whoa! Why?!" Dean complained.

"There's some funky chicken in the TDK Slammer, ain't there?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah." Angela sniffed the sandwich and immediately recoiled. "Dean, how the hell are you eating this?!"

~/~\~

Bobby set the sandwich, wrapped in foil in the shape of a swan, down on a plate on the table.

"This is stupid," Dean complained. "My sandwich didn't do anything. I don't know what you think you're gonna find."

Sam unwrapped the sandwich carefully.

"There's something wrong with you, Dean," Angela replied.

"Are you kidding?" Dean scoffed as he sat on the counter. "I'm fine! I—I actually feel great. The best I've felt in a couple months. Cas? Black goo? I don't even care anymore. And you know what's even better? I don't care that I don't care. I just want my damn slammer back."

"Dude, you are completely stoned." Sam frowned. "Just like Ranger Rick was."

"Just like the dinner rush back at Biggerson's," Bobby added. "And everybody's loving the turducken."

Suddenly, gray goo bubbled from the sandwich and everyone frowned.

"I think you pissed off my sandwich," Dean said as more goo bubbled out. "That—that's in me?"

"O-only half of it." Angela consoled.

"Does that snot look familiar?" Bobby asked curiously.

"Okay, so whatever turned Gerry Browder into a pumpkin head…and is currently turning Dean into an idiot—

Dean frowned at Sam. "I'm right here. Right here."

"It's in the turducken…" Angela frowned.

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

"It's in the meat." Bobby pursed his lips.

Dean looked at the sandwich. "If I wasn't so chilled out right now, I would puke."

~/~\~

"How's he doing?" Sam asked.

Bobby was in the driver's seat and Sam was in the passenger seat of the van. Angela was on Sam's lap, sleeping curled up against him. Dean was in the backseat, also asleep.

"He's sleeping it off. Tryptophan coma." Bobby replied. "Is Angie okay? She's seemed pretty tired lately."

Sam looked down at Angela and sighed deeply, running his hand through her hair. "I worry about her—about both of them. Ever since my head broke…and we lost Cas. It's just like…they're not the same as they were before."

"How could they be?" Bobby sighed.

"Right, yeah, but what if—

"What if what, Sam?" Bobby cut him off. "All you three do is worry about each other. Who's left to live their own lives here? Aren't you three full up just playing Snuffleupagus with the Devil all the live long?"

"I don't know, Bobby." Sam sighed. "Seeing Lucifer's fine with me."

Bobby's brows furrowed. "Come again?"

"Look, I'm not saying it's fun. I mean, to be honest with you, I-I kind of see it as the best-case scenario. I mean…" Sam pressed the wound on his hand. "At least all my crazy's under one umbrella, you know? I kind of know what I'm dealing with. A lot of people got it worst."

Bobby just stared at Sam. "You always were one deep little son of a bitch."

Sam chuckled slightly at Bobby's comment.

"This is different, but, uh, I noticed that rock on Angie's finger," Bobby commented. "Finally proposed, huh?"

Sam grinned and nodded. "Yeah, funnily enough, it was right after the whole ordeal with Becky," he replied. "I just couldn't wait any longer, Bobby. I know it's not exactly conventional in our lives, but...It feels right."

"You two were made for each other. It's clear as day." Bobby replied with a small smile. "I'm happy for you, son."

Sam combed his fingers through Angela's hair. "Thanks, Bobby." he murmured. Sam looked up and frowned. "Wait, wait, wait. Here we go."

A delivery truck backed up to the Biggerson's receiving entrance. The truck driver got out and wheeled cartons from the truck into the restaurant. The truck read _'MIDWEST MEAT AND POULTRY WHOLESALE DISTRIBUTION'._

"Well, I guess we follow him," Bobby said.

~/~\~

The Midwest Meat truck pulled up to the warehouse and parked. Sam, Bobby, Angela, and Dean were watching from their van.

Sam was looking through a pair of binoculars. "That's weird, right? I mean, a national franchise like Biggerson's getting meat from a place that looks like it wholesales Hong Kong knockoffs."

"Okay." Dean agreed. "Yeah. It's a little weird."

The truck driver entered the warehouse.

"Alright, well, I guess we wait till the close-up shop, go take a look around?" Angela suggested.

"Hang on." Bobby frowned.

A car pulled up to the warehouse and Edgar stepped out. The truck driver came back out of the warehouse.

"No." Sam frowned.

"Edgar," Angela added.

"Leviathans," Dean muttered. "Son of a bitch."

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby's brows furrowed.


	18. Win Friends & Influence Monsters Part 2

Dean and Bobby were sitting in their van outside of the warehouse. Bobby held his cell phone which was on speaker.

 _"There's nothing happening back here at all."_ Sam's voice came through.

"Yeah, okay, guys," Bobby replied. "Well, they're pretty dug in, so why don't you finish circling and head on back?"

 _"Right. See you soon."_ Angela replied.

Bobby hung up and looked at Dean. "How's your head?"

"Well, I think the slammer's pretty much worn off. In between that and the 20 cups of coffee, I'm nicely tense and alarmed." Dean replied.

Bobby pursed his lips. "I wasn't talking about that."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, Bobby, don't—don't go all Sigmund Freud on me right now, okay? I just got drugged by a sandwich."

"I want to talk about your new party line," Bobby replied.

"Party?" Dean scoffed. "What are you talking about? I don't even vote."

"The world's a suicide case. We save it, it just steals more pills?" Bobby paraphrased.

Dean sighed. "Bobby, I'm here, okay? I'm on the case. What's the problem?"

"I've seen a lot of hunters live and die," Bobby noted. "You're starting to talk like one of the dead ones, Dean."

"No, I'm talking the way a person talks when they've had it, when they can't figure out why they used to think it all mattered." Dean corrected.

"Oh, you poor, sorry…You're not a person." Bobby retorted.

"Thanks," Dean replied sarcastically.

"Come on, now. You tried to hang it up and be a person with Lisa and Ben." Bobby sighed. "And now here you are with a mean old coot and a van full of guns. That ain't person behavior, son. You're a hunter, meaning you're whatever the job you're doing today. Now, you get a case of the Anne Sextons, something's gonna come up behind you and rip your fool head off. Now, you find your reasons to get back in the game. I don't care if it's love or spite or a ten-dollar bet. I've been to enough funerals. I mean it. You die before me and I'll kill you."

Dean looked at Bobby for a moment. "We need to scrape some money together, get you a condo or something."

Suddenly the door opened and Sam and Angela got into the backseat.

"Hey. Something's up." Angela said.

Two black vehicles pulled up as Edgar and Dr. Gains came out of the building. Dick Roman got out of the second vehicle.

"Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt," Bobby muttered. "It's Dick frigging Roman."

"What? Who the hell is Dick frigging Roman?"

Sam pulled out his laptop and played a television clip of Dick Roman, explaining who he is and what he does.

"Holy crap," Dean muttered. "What the hell is that?"

"That's one of the top 50 most powerful men in America, Dean," Sam replied.

"Says here top 35 of last month." Dean corrected. "Now it's all making sense. Remember when Crowley kept going on about hating Dick? I thought he was just being general. Pfft!"

"Well, if the Leviathan got to him, then that means they're playing on a much bigger board than we were thinking," Bobby noted.

"So, what, then?" Angela asked. "I mean, we can't exactly outgun them."

"No, but we got the drop on them. Means we got a chance to figure out what these guys are really doing here,"

Dean looked at the surveillance equipment that Bobby was assembling. "Whoa. Where'd you get that mother?"

"It's on loan from Frank's big brother collection. It'll pick up vocal vibrations from window glass at half a mile. It's time to find out what these ugly bastards are up to."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were in the van.

"Our side's still dead, Bobby," Dean said into the phone. "Anything with you?"

 _"Yeah, same here."_ Bobby's voice rang through. _"I got—hold on. Yeah, I got movement—my side, second floor, meeting room."_

~/~\~

"What's happening now?" Angela asked.

 _"Wait."_ Bobby's voice rang through. _"Now I have officially seen it all."_

"Bobby, what is it?" Sam's brows furrowed as he spoke.

_"He's making the doctor eat himself."_

Dean frowned. "What?"

_"He's—_

The three hunters looked at each other in concern when they heard tussling on the other side of the line.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela found Bobby's broken surveillance equipment on the roof.

"They got him." Angela frowned.

"There are at least four Leviathans out there," Sam noted. "We don't even know how to kill one."

Dean watched as an ACME INDUSTRIAL CLEANING van pulled up. "Well, it'll be quite a shock when we walk in through the front door, won't it?"

~/~\~

Edgar and the truck driver were walking towards two men in suits who appeared to be bodyguards. Angela, Sam, and Dean entered carrying pressure sprayers. They sprayed the bodyguards, Edgar, and the truck driver, all of whom started to scream and moan as their skin burned.

~/~\~

Dick wiped his burning face with a handkerchief. Sam and Angela dropped their empty pressure sprayers and back into a corner. Sam stepped in front of Angela slightly to protect her. Dick advanced on them, his face healing.

"Sam…Angela…That is not how we communicate from a place of yes." He chastised. "That was bracing. Where'd you kids find this stuff?"

Suddenly Bobby shot Dick in the back twice, causing him to turn around.

"Hey!" Dick snapped. "That's mine."

Dean threw more cleaning liquid on Dick from behind, causing him to sizzle and burn. "Go! Go!" Dean yelled.

Dean, Sam, and Angela ran out of the room.

"Would you stop it with that stuff?" Dick asked with a sinister smile.

Bobby followed the three hunters, but a large bodyguard blocked his way.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela pulled up to the warehouse in their van. Sam held Angela close to him.

"Dammit, where's Bobby?" Sam asked.

~/~\~

Bobby came running out of the warehouse and towards the van.

"Bobby!" Angela exclaimed. "Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Bobby opened the sliding door and got in as Dick came out, drawing his gun.

"Go! Go!" Bobby exclaimed.

Dick shot just as Bobby closed the door and shot twice more as Dean drove away.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean snapped. "I'm glad you got in. He almost took your freaking head off."

"Hey, Bobby, here's your hat." Angela held it out. She frowned when Bobby didn't respond and her frown deepened when she saw a bullet hole in the hat. "Guys…"

The three hunters looked at the backseat and frowned.

"Bobby?" Sam asked. "Oh, God. Bobby? Bobby?"

"Bobby?!" Dean called frantically.


	19. Death's Door Part 1

Angela was in the backseat. "Bobby? Bobby? Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hold on." She went to check his pulse.

Sam was in the back with her keeping Bobby upright.

"Is he dead?!" Dean asked as he drove.

"I'm checking!" Angela replied, trying to find a pulse.

"Is he dead?!" Dean repeated.

"Just drive, Dean!" Angela exclaimed. "Bobby!"

"You guys gotta talk to me!" Dean snapped.

"Alright, he's breathing! There's a pulse!" Angela assured.

Dean entered numbers on his cellphone. "Keep him upright. Stop the bleeding."

"We're not idiots, Dean!" Sam snapped. "We know first aid for a friggin' bullet to the head!"

"I need the nearest trauma center," Dean said to the person on the other line.

"Hold on. Hold on." Sam muttered.

"What's the address?!" Dean yelled. "Alright, Bobby, hang in there." He said as he accelerated.

"Bobby! Just hold on!" Sam pressed.

~/~\~

_Dean, Sam, Angela, and Bobby were in the forest looking up at Ranger Phil._

_"Well, I guess we found Phil," Dean commented._

_Bobby frowned and his brows furrowed. "Wait a minute. Something's not right here."_

_"Yeah, no kidding, Bobby." Dean scoffed. "There's a corpse in a tree."_

_"Something bad's about to happen," Bobby muttered._

_"Yeah, well danger's kinda on the W2—that's why we got the guns," Dean replied._

_Blood dripped onto Bobby's hand, and he frowned. He put his fingers to his head and saw more blood on his fingertips. "Or something bad's happened already."_

~/~\~

_Bobby, Sam, Angela, and Dean walked into the old house. Bobby removed his cap and touched his head. There was a small amount of blood on his forehead._

_"Balls," Bobby muttered._

_"Are you okay?" Angela frowned deeply._

_"Y-you want to tell us what's going on?" Sam asked._

_"Yeah, what's going on with your head?" Dean questioned._

_Bobby looked at the three younger hunters. "I got shot in it!"_

_Dean frowned, confused. "You what?"_

_"Bobby, we've been with you all day," Angela replied._

_"Yeah, I think we would have noticed if you took a bullet," Dean added._

_Bobby shook his head. "I didn't take one here. I-I took one out there, i-i-in the real world."_

_"You lost us," Dean replied._

_"Look, Bobby, you—you want to sit down, seriously?" Sam suggested._

_Bobby shook his head again. "No, there's something I gotta tell you. I-I…Dammit, I can't get at it."_

_"Well, it—it's okay, take your time," Angela said gently. "We're right here."_

_"No, no, not you." Bobby sighed. "Real you. Out—out there, in the waking world. Numbers. Numbers. Where's paper?" he asked, walking over to the table. He grabbed the pen and notebook. "I didn't have time before to tell you what…" he said as he wrote down '454895' in the notebook. "They're cooking up. You need to know."_

_Bobby put the piece of paper from the notebook in his jacket pocket._

_"Well…" Karen started suddenly._

~/~\~

_Bobby was in the bedroom of his old house. Karen, his late wife, was sitting on the bed in a nightgown. Bobby stood in the doorway holding a glass of wine._

_"You just gonna stand there or hand it over, Bobby?" Karen smiled._

_"What the hell?" Bobby breathed. "Karen?"_

_Karen giggled. "You were expecting Farrah Fawcett?"_

_"No," Bobby replied. "She always calls first." He added before pausing. "That's what I said the first time this happened…"_

_"What are you talking about? Gimme!" Karen held out her hand._

_Bobby looked down and noticed the glass of wine. "Oh." He said before handing it to her. "This—this is just like it was. You're beautiful."_

_Karen smiled. "Quit sweet-talkin' and come here." She grabbed his hand. "I feel like we haven't talked in ages."_

_"I know just how you feel." Bobby murmured._

_Karen took a deep breath. "Listen, I have something I want to say to you. No excuses this time, okay? Just sit, Bobby."_

_Bobby did as he was told and sat on the bed. "I know what night this is. I remember this."_

_"I've thought about this a lot. I really…" Karen started._

_"…sat with this…" Bobby and Karen said simultaneously._

_Karen hit Bobby lightly. "Don't make fun of me."_

_"I wouldn't," Bobby assured. "But right now I gotta…" he paused when he heard thunder. "I don't remember a storm coming in the night this happened."_

_Bobby went to the window and saw a full moon and a sky full of stars. The stars started to disappear and the reflection of the moon in the window faded. Bobby saw a young boy running from behind a shed towards the house._

_"Mother Mary," Bobby muttered. "I've got a messed-up fruitcake."_

_"What, Bobby?" Karen asked._

_Bobby turned to look at her. "Nuthin'. I gotta go. I'm sorry darlin'."_

_"Bobby, wait! Don't go!" Karen begged._

~/~\~

_Bobby frowned when suddenly he was behind Rufus, who was standing outside of a church wearing a pest control uniform. Bobby looked down and realized he was wearing the same one._

_"Number-one trick is to act like you know what you're doing, Bobby," Rufus said._

_"Rufus?" Bobby asked._

_"What, I can't give advice now?" Rufus scoffed. "All of a sudden you know everything? You know, I can always go wait in the car."_

_"No, wait." Bobby stopped him. "I—I need your help. Bad."_

_"Yeah, damn straight you do."_

_"No, listen to me, Rufus. I'm gonna die!" Bobby pressed._

_Rufus turned to look at him. "Oh, now that's a realistic view of the mortality rate on a ghost hunt." He sassed. He was holding the EMF meter which started to light up and make noise. "Whoa, whoa, Nellie, red line. Alright, baby boy, here we go."_

_"No, Rufus!" Bobby tried to stop him._

_Rufus entered the church, and Bobby looked around as it started raining. The same young boy started running down the street._

_Rufus opened the door of the church. "Are you coming, Bobby? I mean, we're not getting any younger here!"_

_"Coming," Bobby assured._

_Bobby looked down to see the young boy in front of him. The boy grabbed his arm._

_"God's gonna punish you."_

_Bobby heard the sound of breaking glass and looked behind him to see a shattered glass of milk on a tiled floor. When he turned back, the boy was gone. He sighed and went inside the church._

~/~\~

_Six people in red robes were standing at the front of the church. Rufus walked towards a door at the side. Suddenly the six people started to disappear and the light turned off. A man holding an old-fashioned watch on a chain walked up behind Bobby._

_"Hello, Mr. Singer."_

_Bobby turned to see that the man was dressed in a dark suit. There was a flash of lightning. The man swung the watch on its chain and caught it._

_"Your time's up." He warned._

~/~\~

_"So, you're my reaper, huh?" Bobby asked. "You know, I've heard of you guys grabbing reapees in broad daylight and in their sleep, but I never heard of a reaper showing up inside a guy's custard."_

_"You're in a coma, genius." The reaper snarked. "This is what happens. I climb in your 'custard' and fish you out."_

_The reaper took a step towards Bobby and held out his hand. Bobby just took a step back and the reaper raised his brows._

_"Oh, you think you can lose me."_

_"Gonna try." Bobby shrugged._

_The reaper sighed. "I've got places to be, Singer, don't waste my time."_

_"Might as well—while I got it." Bobby retorted._

_"You're prolonging the inevitable." The reaper cautioned._

_The reaper flipped open his watch and quickly closed it. Bobby ran for the door that Rufus had gone through._

_"I can find you anywhere! Even in this gin-soaked rat maze."_

_Bobby walked around a corner and was dressed in his usual clothes. Sam tossed two DVDs onto a coffee table: Chuck Norris American Hero Collection and The Delta Force._

_"I'm just saying—look, you can't really compare," Sam said._

~/~\~

_Sam and Dean were sitting on a couch in Bobby's house. Angela sat on Sam's lap._

_"I don't even know you right now." Dean scoffed. "There's not even a contest!"_

_"It depends on the criteria." Sam defended. "Right, Angie?"_

_Angela sighed, not wanting to get in the middle of this argument. "Sure, Sammy."_

_"You're just saying that 'cause you're his girlfriend!" Dean exclaimed. "Survival is the only criteria, alright?" he grabbed one of the DVDs as he got up. "And when crap hits the fan, it's not about who has skill. It's about who's the bigger badass. Bobby, will you please tell Sam that Chuck Norris could kick Jet Li's ass?"_

_Bobby just looked around and then walked towards the kitchen._

_Dean frowned. "You grab me a beer while you're in there?"_

_Bobby opened the sliding doors to the kitchen._

_"Bobby?" a woman asked as she set the table. "Bobby Singer, you had better be washed up when you come down." The woman, Bobby's mother, looked at him. "You're filthy. God, what is wrong with you? It's like you want him to get mad."_

_Bobby quickly slid the doors shut._

~/~\~

_Bobby was back inside the church with Rufus, who tossed him a shotgun._

_"Bobby, heads-up!" Rufus exclaimed. "Whew! Poor thing. Gets left at the altar, kills herself, and then gets buried in the crypt. Now she's going after men who break their girls' hearts. Poignant, am I wrong?" he tossed Bobby a flashlight. "Why you out of breath? Did you got for a job up there, man?"_

_"I need your help, Rufus," Bobby replied._

_"Yeah, clearly."_

_"No, listen to me." Bobby pressed, frustrated._

_"I want you to grab a torch, man. As soon as I open up her coffin, showtime's coming pretty quick." Rufus explained._

_"No. Will you listen to me, you son of a bitch?" Bobby asked. "There's a damn reaper coming for me."_

_"There's a damn reaper coming for all of us, Bobby," Rufus said as he looked at the names on the crypt. He stopped at Lara Coggins, 1925-1954. "Alright, let's put this damn ghost to bed. I got plans for Purim." He hit the crypt with a sledgehammer._

~/~\~

Bobby was being wheeled on a hospital bed.

"Page the neurosurgeon on call." The doctor ordered. "Tell OR to put electives on hold."

Sam, Dean, and Angela quickly followed behind Bobby's bed.

"Move trauma 2 to bed 7 as soon as it's clean."

~/~\~

"Gunshot wound to the right frontal area, no exit wound found." The Nurse said. "Breathing spontaneously. Respiratory rate 18 and shallow. RST at 120. BP 90 over 60. GCS 5."

"Push 80 grams of Mannitol over 30." The doctor ordered. "Prep for intubation."

"Air entry clear to bases." The nurse added.

"Let's get a central line in here now."

"What's happening?" Angela asked, brows furrowed. "Please just tell us—

"Get them out of here." The doctor demanded.

"Sorry." The nurse said gently. "You need to stay out of their way."

Another nurse was cutting open Bobby's shirt.

"That's our uncle!" Dean exclaimed.

"You got to stay back."

"What are they doing?" Sam frowned.

"We need to get him stable." The nurse replied.

"Okay, when are you gonna take the bullet out?" Dean asked.

"If we can get the swelling down, if it's in a place we can get to, if—

"If he even lives that long," Sam muttered.

Angela gently took Sam's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. What the hell were they gonna do if Bobby died?

The nurse pulled a curtain shut across the door to the trauma room.

~/~\~

_Rufus opened a coffin._

_"Forget it." Bobby sighed. "I got to keep moving."_

_Bobby turned to leave, but a ghost appeared in front of him. She was bleeding from a wound across her throat._

_"Heartbreaker." The ghost snarled._

_She snatched Bobby's shotgun and put her arm into his chest, causing him to grimace in pain._

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were standing outside of Bobby's trauma room. Sam held Angela's hand in his tightly.

"Push 30 more of Mannitol over 10." The doctor said. "CBC and 'lytes. Bolus him with 500 saline."

"The vitals were stable to minutes ago." The nurse frowned as Bobby started crashing.

"Well, he's crashing now." The doctor said.

~/~\~

_"I'll break your heart." The ghost snarled._

_Suddenly Rufus slashed through the ghost with iron and she disappeared. Bobby fell to the ground._

_"Bobby…Come on." Rufus frowned. "You okay? Say something."_

_Bobby raised his head and frowned. "Look out!"_

_The ghost reappeared behind Rufus. She grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Blood pooled out from underneath his head. Bobby torched the ghost's bones and she screamed as she burned up._

~/~\~

"Blood pressure 130 over 90." The nurse said.

Bobby appeared to have been stabilized. His head was bandaged, and he was now wearing a hospital gown and there was a tube in his mouth.

~/~\~

_Rufus was still lying where he fell._

_"Okay, Rufus, I need you…" he turned and saw Rufus. "Oh, balls. This would be the one job you damn near got yourself killed on. Well, you're gonna be useful, even if I have to carry you."_

~/~\~

The doctor opened the curtain and walked over to Dean. Sam leaned on a wall nearby, holding Angela close to him.

"He's, uh, stable for the moment." The doctor explained. "Just have to see."

Dean looked at Bobby in the trauma room, then turned slowly and looked at Sam and Angela.

~/~\~

_"Rufus…" Bobby looked around. "Where the hell did you go?" he asked._

_Bobby saw the young boy standing nearby and frowned._

_"Yeah, you!" Bobby snapped. "You, kid! Hey, what are you making like a white rabbit all over the place for, you grubby little—enough with the jump scares, kid. Who are you running from?"_

_The young boy just stood and said nothing._

_"Wait a minute." Bobby frowned. "I know you."_

_"Did you think I was dead?" Rufus called out suddenly._

_Bobby turned and saw Rufus being wheeled out of a hospital by a nurse. Rufus laughed and handed the nurse a piece of paper._

_"Call me, alright?" Rufus smirked as he got out of the wheelchair. "Don't sit Shiva for me yet, Bobby."_

_Bobby looked behind him, but the young boy was gone. "Listen—after Bridezilla took you out, do you remember what you told me about your near-death experience?"_

_"I haven't told you nuthin' yet," Rufus replied. "But now that you mention it, pretty sure I almost crossed over."_

_"And what did you see?" Bobby asked._

_"What did I see?" Rufus repeated. "What are you so riled up about, paco? Alright, alright. I saw a hallway, uh, plain carpet, uh, the apartment building from when I was a kid."_

_"And?" Bobby asked._

_"And I wanted out." Rufus shrugged. "I'm not dying on no damn plaid carpet. No, thank you."_

_"So, what did you do?" Bobby asked._

_"Well, obviously, Bobby, not being stupid, I started looking for the damn exit door," Rufus replied. "Y-you know, I swear that's what they mean about your life flashing before your eyes, 'cause every time I opened the door, there was another chapter inside—the good, the bad, the bloody."_

_"So, how did you get out?" Bobby questioned._

_"Found the right door, obviously." Rufus scoffed._

_"Well, how did you find it?"_

_"Oh, simple—I went deep." Rufus shrugged._

_"Deep." Bobby nodded. "Like, old?"_

_"No, deep like…crap you do not want to think about, so you bury it, you shove other crap over it, and you don't go there, ever," Rufus explained._

_"So, you're telling me that the way out was through your worst memory?" Bobby asked._

_"It's an important door, Bobby," Rufus assured._

_"Okay, this is good." Bobby nodded._

_"What the hell are you going on about, anyway?" Rufus questioned curiously._

_Bobby took the piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. "This. I got to find the right door to get this to Sam, Dean, and Angela. I'm in a coma, Rufus, right now."_

_Rufus laughed. "Get out."_

_"I got shot in the dunce cap, Rufus!" Bobby exclaimed. "I'm—I'm dying."_

_"You sure?"_

_"Unfortunately." Bobby scoffed._

_"I'll be a prima ballerina," Rufus replied. "Wait, wait, Bobby. Are you trying to tell me I'm just one of your better memories?"_

_"Would I make this up?" Bobby retorted. He looked up when he heard thunder clapping. "Okay. I got to go."_

_Rufus frowned. "What?"_

_"You're coming with me, Rufus," Bobby added._

_"What?" Rufus repeated._

_"I need my partner on this. Please." Bobby pleaded._

_Suddenly, the thunder and shaking stopped. Bobby and Rufus walked along outside the hospital, past signs saying Lincoln Memorial Hospital._

_"Aim for your worst memory," Rufus instructed. "Think. Focus. You got it? The worst, okay?"_

_"I got a metric ton of worst," Bobby muttered._

_"Just take a shot," Rufus replied. "By the way, the killer bride—how come she call you a heartbreaker anyway? I mean, you a family man if I ever saw one."_

_Bobby thought for a moment. "Thanks for narrowing things down."_

~/~\~

_Bobby and Rufus entered Bobby's bedroom. There was a broken glass of red wine on the floor. Karen was standing barefoot next to it, dressed in a blue robe._

_"I can't believe you. I hate you." Karen said tearfully. "Everything's a lie. Our whole life, our vows…everything. You knew I wanted kids. Why didn't you just sit me down and say…I don't understand. You're a good man." Her voice cracked. "You'd be a good dad. What does that even mean, you break everything you touch?! What kind of excuse is that?!" she exclaimed, stepping on the broken glass. "Aah!" she yelped as she sat on the bed. "Just stay away from me! You broke my heart, Bobby! You happy? Just go away!"_

_"Just so you know…I'm sorry. I never stopped being sorry." Bobby whispered._

_"Bobby, I thought you'd want a gang of rugrats." Rufus frowned._

_Bobby just shook his head quietly._

_"So, how long after this…?" Rufus trailed off._

_"…Did she get possessed?" Bobby finished. "Three days. Biggest regret of my life, this fight. You'd think it was when I had to stab her to death, but…no. All through that…I was thinking we never got to get past this. If I'd known, I'd have said anything she wanted to hear."_

_Bobby watched as Karen continued to cry on the bed._

_"Bobby?" Rufus called lightly. "Hey. Try the door. Now."_

_"Thanks, Rufus," Bobby replied as he opened the door and stepped out into the light._


	20. Death's Door Part 2

_Bobby and Rufus looked around the playground._

_"Balls," Bobby muttered._

_"What year is this? '89-ish?" Rufus asked._

_"What's it matter?" Bobby replied. "I'm still stuck in eternal friggin' sunshine."_

_"No, I was just thinking, man—you look pretty good there. Must've drank less." Rufus noted._

_Bobby and Rufus were watching a younger Bobby and Dean walking across the park._

_"Hey, Bobby, where are we going?" young Dean asked._

_"Well, Dean, where's it look like?" Bobby replied._

_"Dad says I'm supposed to practice with the double-barrel," Dean argued._

_"Well, we're gonna skip the guns today. Here." Bobby handed Dean a catcher's mitt. "Here. Today…you're gonna throw a ball around, just like a regular snot-nosed little jerk."_

_"You know, for a guy who'd rather break his wife's heart than give her a baby, you make a hell of a nanny," Rufus commented._

_Bobby rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Rufus. We need another door."_

_The two men looked around and noticed a shed behind them._

_"Let's go," Bobby said._

_"Seriously, though, Bobby, how come—_

_"Dog with a bone, Rufus." Bobby sighed._

_"No, I really want to know, man—why no kids?" Rufus pressed._

_"Ain't that deep," Bobby replied. "Dad was a mean drunk. I figured I'd be just like him. And, hey, look—I was right. No sense passing on the legacy."_

_"Man, you're too hard on yourself," Rufus replied. "You're more of a cranky drunk. You do know that whatever you're trying to avoid with the eye rolls and the grump-a-lumping—that's exactly where you need to go."_

_"I ain't avoiding nothing," Bobby muttered unconvincingly._

_"Yeah, sure."_

_"Get off my ass, Rufus." Bobby snapped._

_"Hey, Bobby, I'm trying to help you here, okay?" Rufus retorted. "You want to get out of here, or you want to die?"_

_"I'm trying." Bobby sighed. "How am I supposed to know what I don't want me to know?" He asked, opening the shed doors._

~/~\~

_Bobby's mother was serving dinner while his father sat at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. The young boy ran into the room and sat down at the table._

_"Hey, look." Bobby's father said. "The crown prince decided to drop by for a late bite."_

_"Oh, he—he was just washing up." Bobby's mother replied nervously. "So, w-who would like to say grace?"_

_"Hell with grace. Pass me the biscuits."_

_Young Bobby reached for the biscuits and knocked over a glass of milk. The glass fell to the floor and shattered._

_"I'm sorry." Young Bobby said quickly._

_"What is the matter with you?" his father glared._

_"I don't know." The boy rushed. "I'm sorry."_

_"You break everything you touch!" his father yelled._

_Bobby's mother was on her knees cleaning up the glass. "Let's just have a nice supper."_

_"A nice supper?" Bobby's father asked._

_"Mm-hmm."_

_The older man swept his plate onto the floor. "There's your nice supper." He said, drinking from a glass. "I get no respect in this house."_

_Bobby and Rufus looked at each other. Bobby quickly slid the kitchen doors shut._

_"What?" Rufus scoffed. "Now, you can't tell me that wasn't gnarly enough to go spelunking in."_

_"That was any given Tuesday night." Bobby defended. "Believe me—it was nothing special."_

_"No, no, no. You're scared."_

_"No, I ain't. I just know we're in the wrong place, Rufus." Bobby muttered._

_There was thunder and the ground shook violently._

_"You—okay, Bobby, you don't have time," Rufus said. "That sound was not the weather, and you know it. We can't keep bopping through your greatest hits forever. That reaper's gonna catch up. I mean, if there was some way to stop the damn thing…But it's a reaper, Bobby. You're screwed."_

_"I know what we're gonna do," Bobby said._

_"What?" Rufus frowned._

_"We're gonna stop the damn reaper."_

~/~\~

Sam's brows furrowed as he looked at the doctor. "So, there's nothing else we can do?"

"I'm sorry." The doctor replied sincerely. "We just have to wait. We'll see if the swelling goes down."

"How long?" Angela asked gently.

"It's hard to say in cases like this."

"Well, he's lasted this long," Dean interjected. "That's something, right?"

"Well, yes." The doctor nodded. "Listen—the bullet didn't shatter. Only one hemisphere of his brain was injured. These are all positive things. But…I don't want to give you false hope here. He's far from out of the woods. Most of the time, cases like this…"

"They die," Sam whispered.

Angela took Sam's hand comfortingly and squeezed it slightly.

"Right now it comes down to him." The doctor said. "I'll keep you updated."

The Doctor left and a man walked up behind Sam, Dean, and Angela.

"Excuse me," the man said. "Sorry to interrupt. Is one of you Robert Singer's next of kin?"

~/~\~

Dean and the man were in a hospital corridor.

"We know this is a stressful time."

"Yeah, okay." Dean nodded. "No offense—you can skip the garnish. What, did his insurance lapse, or what?"

The man sighed. "We're sorry to ask, but, um, did your uncle ever make his wishes known i-in regards to organ donation? Organs are only viable for a very limited window—

Dean frowned. "Viable?"

"We're just hoping some good can come of this tragic—

Dean stalked up to the man. "Listen to me. I'm gonna say this once." He warned dangerously. "He's not gonna die. It's one bullet. He's gonna be fine because he's always fine."

"I apologize." The man swallowed nervously.

"Why are you talking to me like he's gonna die, huh?" Dean snapped. "I do my job! Do your jobs! Save him!"

"O-of course, they're doing everything they can."

Dean punched the glass covering a sign next to the man's head. "Walk away from me. Now!"

The man flinched and walked away quickly. Dean walked in the other direction and went outside.

~/~\~

The sign outside the hospital read 'Hammonton Regional Hospital'. Dean walked down the steps and shook his hand. He noticed a black car parked diagonally across two parking spaces directly in front of the hospital.

"Dick!" Dean marched up to the car. "I know you're in there. Come on out…" he pounded on the window. "…you dick."

The window lowered, revealing Dick Roman.

"What, did you come here to finish the job?" Dean snarled.

Dick Roman smiled sinisterly.

"Yeah? Well, come on." Dean challenged. "Right here, right now, out in the open, you and me, Dick Roman."

Bystanders were using their cellphones to record the scene that was unfolding.

"See?" Dean raised his brows. "Deciding to jump a famous guy ain't all upside. You can kill me right now—you want to see it online."

"Maybe you should go check on that friend of yours," Dick replied. "He can't be feeling too frisky right about now. I'm a very good shot."

"We're coming for you, and not just to hurt you—to kill you," Dean warned. "You understand me?"

"Come on, Dean." Dick smiled. "I can't be killed."

"You're gonna wish you could, then."

Dick laughed. "That's some conviction. You'd really crush it on the motivational circuit."

Dean clenched his jaw. "You're either laughing because you're scared or you're laughing because you're stupid. I'll see you soon, Dick."

~/~\~

_"It's in an old King James Bible," Bobby said._

_He took a Bible from the bookshelf and leafed through it. The pages all appeared to be blank._

_"So, what exactly are we doing now, Bobby?" Rufus asked._

_Bobby set down the Bible. "Well, technically, you're correct. You can't stop a reaper, not permanently. Only their boss can do that, and we don't want him involved." He took out another book. "Ah. Now we're cooking with gas."_

_"What is that?" Rufus frowned._

_Bobby picked up the cross. "Well, Sam, Dean, and Angela have run up against these suckers a couple, three times. Picked up a few tricks—enough to slow them down a hair, at least."_

_"Alright." Rufus sighed. "Let's work some mojo."_

~/~\~

Dean was getting a coffee from a machine. He walked over to Sam and Angela, who were holding each other as they leaned against the wall outside of Bobby's room.

"What did that guy want?" Sam asked curiously.

"Uh, nothing," Dean replied. "Just some insurance mook. Dick Roman was out there."

Angela frowned. "What? What happened?"

"Nothing…" Dean sighed. "For now. It was just a friggin' staring contest. That was about it. What's the update?"

"The swelling's down a little," Sam replied. "They took him off sedation. Apparently, he—he started fighting his tube. So, they pulled them out, and he's breathing on his own."

"That's good, right? Is that good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Angela nodded. "Well, Doctor said best-case scenario."

"Alright, so when they gonna take the bullet out?" Dean shoved his hands in his pocket.

Sam and Angela looked at each other before looking at Dean again.

"Dean, t-they're not even—they're not even gonna try that, not yet." Sam sighed.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"The word's 'abrading', I think," Angela replied.

"English." Dean raised his brows.

Angela sighed. "Cutting out the dead brain tissue."

"That's if the doctor even thinks it's worth the risk," Sam added. "Uh, can we talk to you?"

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked away from a man and woman who were having a loud conversation.

"What? Talk about what?" Dean frowned.

"You know what," Angela replied gently.

"No, we're not gonna have that conversation," Dean replied, shaking his head.

"Well, we need to." Sam agreed with Angela.

"He's not gonna die," Dean argued.

"He might," Sam replied.

"Guys." Dean clenched his jaw.

"Dean, listen—we need to brace ourselves," Angela replied.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because it's real." Sam pursed his lips.

"What do you want to do?" Dean asked. "You want to hug and—and say we made it through it when Dad died? We've been through enough."

~/~\~

_Rufus was putting ingredients into a bowl on Bobby's desk. Bobby opened a closet, which seemed to be empty._

_"We still need gold ore, hemlock, and mace," Bobby commented._

_"Mm. So, pretty basic, then, huh?" Rufus retorted._

_As Bobby walked through the house, the light went out in the windows as he passed. He opened a kitchen drawer, which was full of junk. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a slightly younger version of himself talking on the phone in the main room._

_"No, we didn't shoot rifles, as a matter of fact." The younger version of Bobby said. "We threw a ball around. He's a kid, John. They both are. They're entitled. Yeah, I know I ain't their dad."_

_Bobby looked away and looked down at the kitchen drawer, which was now empty._

_"What the hell?" he frowned._

_Bobby opened the refrigerator and took out a half-full jar of blood._

~/~\~

_Bobby was finishing up painting a symbol on the wooden floor in front of his desk. He joined Rufus behind the desk and picked up the cross._

_"Oh, theristes, kaleo se Kai deo," Bobby said._

_Rufus lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. There was a flash of fire and the Reaper appeared._

_"Cute." The Reaper said. "Got to admit—first time anyone's pulled one on me while actually unconscious."_

_"Well, get comfy," Bobby replied._

_"Not so fast." The Reaper stopped him._

_"Yeah? Sorry." Bobby replied. "Other business."_

_"I'm trying to help you, Bobby. You're going to die. Think you can stop it by pinning me like a bug?"_

_"Well—_

_"You've seen the dark coming—people disappearing, things going blank. Look around, cell by cell…"_

_Bobby looked around at the photos on the shelves. Peoples' faces were blurry and indistinct._

_"…that bullet's killing your brain. You're running out of places to hide. So, understand—this trap won't hold forever, because this room won't hold, because you are going to die."_

_"You think," Bobby replied._

_"Come with me. Be done. You've earned it." The Reaper said. "Or fight me. Stay here. And you know the drill."_

_"I don't know, Bobby," Rufus interjected. "I mean, you really want to get stuck, turn into some ghost?"_

_"I know what I'm doing, Rufus," Bobby assured._

_"Yeah, yeah, you're thinking you can help those kids," Rufus replied. "But how many spirits you meet in their right mind? Some hunter's gonna cut you down."_

_"Whose side are you on?" Bobby scoffed._

_"Bobby…You've helped." The Reaper said. "You got handed a small, unremarkable life, and you did something with it. Most men like you die of liver disease, watching 'Barney Miller' reruns. You've done enough. Believe me."_

_"I don't care," Bobby replied._

_"Why?"_

_"Because they're my kids!" Bobby retorted. He noticed the younger version of himself standing nearby. "Alright. The only way out is through. So, lead the way." He sighed. "Nice seeing you again, old friend." He smiled at Rufus. "Thanks for the chat." He told the Reaper._

~/~\~

_Bobby's mother was on her knees cleaning up the plate that Bobby's father had knocked to the floor._

_"It's fine. It'll just take a second." The woman assured._

_Bobby's father poured another glass of whiskey. "You just gonna sit there? Get a broom or somethin'."_

_Young Bobby quickly left the room and his father stood up._

_"You know why he acts like that?" he asked. "Because you let him do whatever he wants."_

_"It's okay." His mother assured. "See? I'm almost done. You just relax a-and have another drink."_

_Bobby sighed._

_"Don't tell me what to do." His father snarled._

_Young Bobby was watching from the doorway._

_"No. Wait. Wait." His mother pleaded._

_Bobby's father struck his mother across the face, knocking her down. When she looked up, there was blood at the corner of her mouth._

_"I—no!" She screamed. "Why do you always provoke him?"_

_"Because he's a bad kid—that's why."_

_"Well, that's a load of crap." Bobby ground out. "Who the hell were you to say?"_

_"I'm your father." His father replied. "And you show your father respect."_

_Bobby glared. "The day he deserves it, you drunken…"_

_"Shhh…" his mother said quietly._

_"…bully. Punching women and kids—is that what they call fatherhood in your day?"_

_"Oh, you deserved it." His father replied. "Believe me. You were nothing but ungrateful."_

_"I was a kid!" Bobby snapped. "Kids ain't supposed to be grateful! They're supposed to eat your food and break your heart, you selfish dick! You died, and I was still so afraid I'd turn into you I never even had kids of my own."_

_"Good. You break everything you touch."_

_Bobby's mother started to cry._

_"Uh-huh. Well, as fate would have it, I adopted two boys, and they grew up great. Down the line, a young girl came into my life. She became the daughter I never had. They grew up heroes. So you can go to hell!" Bobby replied._

~/~\~

Two nurses were walking towards Bobby's room.

"Keep the head of the bed up for transport. IV can run off the pump. Just run a TKVO. We'll have to wait for respiratory."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. What's happening?" Sam asked with a frown.

"He's showing signs of responsiveness. We're taking him up for surgery. If you want to see him, I'd squeeze in there quick."

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked towards Bobby's room.

~/~\~

_Bobby's mother was still on the floor and now there was blood coming from her nose._

_"I'm sorry." She cried. "I said that I'm—I'm sorry."_

_"Yeah, yeah, you say that every time." His father scoffed._

_"Please just stop." She begged._

_"No!" he shouted. "This time, you listen!"_

_"Stop it." Young Bobby cut in._

_The boy stood in the doorway with a rifle. As his parents watched, he cocked the rifle and his father laughed._

_"You're kidding, right?" his father smirked. "You're not half enough man to use that thing. You leave the adults to sort this out…and I will deal with you later."_

_He grabbed Bobby's mother by her hair and dragged her partway to her feet._

_"Bobby, just go." She cried. "Do what he says. Just go,"_

_"No." Young Bobby pointed the rifle at his father. "Leave her alone." He demanded, shooting him in the head._

_His mother screamed as his father fell to the ground, dead._

_"Bobby, what did you do?" his mother whispered. "God is gonna punish you."_

_"Hey." Bobby walked over to the younger version of himself. "You did what you had to do. This is where you learn that…they pretty much never say thanks when you save 'em. Now go get a shovel. Bury the old man out behind the woodshed."_

_The young boy quickly left._

_"You got the only genetic case of bullet in the brain I've ever seen." The Reaper said._

_A bright light appeared in the kitchen window._

_"Not so fast, Singer."_

_Bobby hurried to the kitchen door, opened it, and looked out into the bright light._

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were at Bobby's bedside.

"Sorry." The nurse said gently. "We need to get moving."

"Right. Yeah." Sam whispered. "Hey, um…Bobby, um, hey…" he grabbed his hand. "Just…thanks…for everything."

Sam let go of Bobby's hand and gave it a pat.

"Alright. Please step back." The nurse instructed.

"Yeah." Dean murmured.

Bobby raised his hand and opened his eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, stop," Angela said. "His eyes are open."

"Bobby?" Dean asked.

"Hey." Sam put a hand on Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby moved the respirator covering his mouth and nose. Sam took Bobby's hands.

"What—don't talk," Dean said. "Don't talk. A pen—I…" he grabbed a pen and chart at the end of the bed. "Here. Here, here, here." He handed the pen to Angela who handed it to Bobby. "What is it?"

Bobby wrote _'45489'_ on Sam's palm while breathing heavily with the effort. He smiled slightly at the three younger hunters, who leaned closer to him.

"Idjits." He breathed out.

Bobby's head fell back onto the pillow and his eyes closed. The monitor he was attached to started to beep.

"Bobby?" Dean frowned. "Hey!"

~/~\~

"Call code—trauma room." The nurse said.

Sam, Dean, and Angela stood outside of Bobby's room as medical staff hurried towards the room and attempted to revive Bobby. Sam held Angela tightly as they looked on, and all three hunters had tears in their eyes.

~/~\~

_Bobby was walking through the house._

_"You microbrewing in there, or what?" Dean called. "Come on—we got a lot of Chuck Norris to get through. Let's go."_

_Bobby opened the refrigerator and took out three beers._

_"Nice move, waking up like that." The Reaper noted._

_"Motivation's a mother," Bobby replied._

_"You know why it's dark out there, don't you?" the Reaper asked. "This house—it's your last island, everything else melted by the bullet—gone. This is your last chance to come with me and move on. For your own good, Bobby, let go. They'll be okay without you."_

_"Last memory, huh?" Bobby muttered._

_The Reaper just nodded._

_"Glad I saved the best for last," Bobby muttered, walking away._

_Dean, who was holding a remote, sat down on the two-person couch next to Sam. Angela sat on Sam's lap and held a popcorn bowl._

_"Alright, scoot, jerkface," Dean demanded. "Show your elders some respect."_

_"You scoot, ass-hat!" Sam retorted._

_He took a piece of popcorn and threw it at Dean._

_"Don't waste the popcorn!" Angela laughed._

_Bobby walked in and handed the beers to Sam._

_"Mm." Sam hummed._

_Sam set the beers on the table in front of Dean. Dean took more snacks out of a plastic bag._

_"Did we get licorice?" Dean asked._

_"No, we did not get licorice," Sam replied through a mouthful of popcorn. "We got good snacks. Licorice is disgusting."_

_Bobby smiled slightly._

_"I'm sorry." Dean scoffed. "I didn't quite understand that, uh, Mr. Peanut-Butter-and-Banana Sandwiches?"_

_"You're talking through the movie, guys," Angela complained._

_"You know what?" Sam replied. "I stand by that sandwich. Nobody likes licorice. I-it's—it's made of dirt."_

_"It is a classic movie food." Dean retorted. "It's right up there with popcorn."_

_Angela's brows furrowed. "Popcorn? Really?"_

_"Yes!" Dean replied._

_"See, Angie agrees with me," Sam noted._

_Sam, Dean, and Angela started to fade._

_"What—it's like little chewy pieces of heaven," Dean said as they disappeared._

_"Well, Bobby?" the Reaper asked. "Stay or go—what's it gonna be?"_


	21. Adventures in Babysitting Part 1

_Week One_

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting silently in the dim light in Rufus' cabin. Sam was sitting at the table and Angela was on his lap, while Dean sat on the couch. Sam's arms were around Angela's waist, keeping her close. Sam looked over at Dean, then away. When Sam was no longer looking directly at him, Dean looked at Sam, then away.

~/~\~

_Week Two_

Sam took an address book out of a drawer and opened it.

Dean had made a list of what the numbers could possibly mean. Each item was crossed out and Dean sighed deeply.

~/~\~

_Week Three_

Dean pinned an article titled _'Biggerson's Recalls Contaminated Meat: Customers Report Illness After Eating Turducken Slammers'_ to a board holding their research. Also on the board were several articles about Dick Roman.

Sam put two duffle bags on a table. Angela went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, opening it before she handed it to Sam. Sam leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek as he took the beer.

"Dean, Angie and I talked, and, you know, um…I wonder if—if we…I mean, should we be telling people?" Sam asked. "I mean, people he knew."

"How long ago did I give Frank these numbers?" Dean asked. "It's been a few weeks, right? What, is he nuts, or is he just being rude?"

"Probably both," Angela muttered.

"Dean, I-I asked you a question," Sam said.

"Unless, of course, something happened to him." Dean continued. "He can't get to the phone because a Leviathan ate his face."

"Yeah, also a possibility." Sam nodded.

"We should go check on him," Dean suggested.

Sam sighed. "Dean, do you want to call Bobby's people or not?"

"W-why is—why is that our job?" Dean asked.

"Because who else is gonna do it?" Angela shrugged.

Dean shook his head. "I'm not calling anybody. If you want to, you go right ahead."

"We don't want to call anybody," Sam replied. "You kidding me?"

A phone in one of the duffle bags started to ring. The three hunters looked at the bag and then at each other.

"Well, I'm not getting it," Dean said.

Angela took out the phone and flipped it open. "Hello?"

 _"Is Bobby Singer there?"_ a young girl's voice rang through.

"Uh, no." Angela frowned. "He's, uh…I-I-it's not, but I'm a friend of his."

Dean picked up a flask that was in the duffle bag, sniffed it, and put the lid back on.

 _"My dad asked me to call Bobby Singer specifically."_ The girl replied.

"He's…not here, but, look, if you need s—

Angela frowned when the line went dead.

"Who was it, babe?" Sam asked.

"Just some kid," Angela replied.

"For Bobby?" Dean raised his brows. "Girl Scout cookies?"

"I think maybe…" Angela trailed off as Dean grabbed a full bottle of beer from the table. "Maybe a-a hunter's kid? I mean, she sounded pretty scared. You know, I have caller ID. Maybe we should go find her. We—we can check on her."

"What about Frank?" Dean asked.

"Dean, I-I agree with Angie, I think we should go find this girl first," Sam replied.

"Guys, Frank's been working on the numbers that Bobby spent his last breath on, and you want to back-burner that?" Dean frowned.

Sam and Angela looked silently at Dean.

"Fine." Dean conceded. "You go check out girl scout. I'll find Frank."

"Fine," Sam replied. "But you know what? On one condition—if Frank is just spinning his wheels, then you bail out on crazy and come meet us."

Dean looked at the beer bottle in his hand, which was now empty. "And thanks for drinking my entire beer."

"No one touched your beer," Angela replied. "Sam's in over there."

"You probably drank it without noticing." Sam shrugged.

"Right," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Angela knocked on an apartment door, Sam standing next to her. The door opened to the length of a chain lock.

"Hi, uh…we spoke on the phone earlier." Angela looked at the young girl. "Uh, I'm Angela, and this is my fiancé Sam. You sounded like you needed help and we were in the area."

"How'd you find me?" Krissy asked.

"Your dad is in Bobby's address book," Sam replied.

"So, where is he?" Krissy raised her brows.

"Bobby?" Sam asked. "He, uh…He's passed away. Look, um—

"Krissy."

"Krissy." Sam nodded. "We get it. You don't let strangers in. But, if your dad said you could trust Bobby, then you can trust us, too."

Krissy shut the door, undid the chain, and opened the door again. "Just so you know, 911's on speed-dial. One button."

"Yeah, sure. Note taken." Angela replied as they walked into the apartment.

"So…you two are sales-people, too?" Krissy asked.

"Yep." Sam nodded. "So, your dad's on the road right now? Been gone a while?"

"He usually calls every night."

"How long has it been?" Angela asked.

"Five days," Krissy replied.

"It's just you and him, huh?" Angela asked gently. "I know how that is. We both do." She gestured to Sam and herself. "Look, um…Sometimes on the road, crap happens. So, we'll help you track him down."

"Really?" Krissy asked.

"'Course," Sam replied. "Did he happen to say where he was going?"

"Said he had a couple leads near Dodge City." Krissy shrugged.

"And does he have a desk or something where he keeps his stuff?" Angela asked.

Krissy led the two older hunters into another room.

"Do you mind making some coffee?" Sam asked. "Thanks." He smiled softly when she nodded.

Sam looked through the desk and Angela looked through the closet. She turned on the light and moved the hanging clothes. On the wall were missing persons notices and articles.

"Sam…" Angela trailed off.

~/~\~

"Krissy," Sam said as he and Angela walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, listen, so we think we got an idea where to start," Angela explained. "So, we're gonna go. Uh…Can I borrow this?" she held up a framed photo of Krissy and her dad.

"Yeah." Krissy nodded.

"Thanks," Angela replied.

"Here. Here's a number, in case you don't hear from us in the next couple days." Sam scrawled a phone number down. "Don't worry. I promise we'll check in."

"Don't say that," Krissy replied. "That's what my dad said."

~/~\~

Dean drove up to Frank's house and got out of the car.

~/~\~

Dean walked through the mostly empty house with his gun drawn. "This can't be good." He muttered as he looked around.

Dean turned to the sound of a gun cocking and raised his own gun. Frank was pointing a shotgun at him.

"Well…hi." Dean greeted.

Frank just stood there, not lowering his gun.

"Frank…We're amongst friends here," Dean said. Frank just scoffed. "Okay, acquaintances." Dean corrected.

"That's just what a Leviathan would say." Frank finally spoke.

"Frank. I'm not a Leviathan." Dean assured.

"Oh, sure." Frank scoffed. "You're not a Leviathan. Dick Roman's not a Leviathan. Gwyneth Paltrow is not a Leviathan."

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"Trust me," Frank replied.

"Okay. You know what, Frank?" Dean asked. "I think you've been doing a little too much research."

"They're anywhere, anyone," Frank replied. "Who's to say this ain't the day they come for old Frank who knew too much?"

Dean sighed. "They bleed black goo, right? You want to see what I bleed?"

Frank pointed his shotgun at Dean's foot.

"Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean stopped him. "Let's take the guns out of it, okay?"

"Okay," Frank replied hesitantly.

Dean put his gun on the table and took a knife from his back pocket. He made a cut on his forearm, red blood appearing. Frank finally lowered his shotgun.

"See? Red-blooded American." Dean said before wiping his knife on his sleeve. "Now…" he held the knife out to Frank. "Your turn."

"Oh! Whoa. Look, I'm obviously not—

"Fair's fair, douchebag," Dean replied.

Frank sighed and took the knife. He made a cut on his palm, red blood appearing, and handed the knife back to Dean.

"Yeah." Dean wiped the blade on his sleeve again. "I'm glad we could share that together."

"Grab your gun, come with me," Frank instructed. "For God's sake, don't make any noise."

~/~\~

Dean and Frank pulled up at a barn containing a trailer.

~/~\~

Dean looked around the trailer. "Why the downsize?"

"You! 'Hey, Frank, go dig up some dirt on Richard Roman'." Frank retorted. "That night, I was burned off ever IP I had. Ears on my phones, eyes on my house…"

"Wait—Dick's got people watching you?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"Do I look like I know?" Frank asked. "You think it's easy to see this deep into what's real and also be bipolar with delusional ideation? There is no pill for my situation, sweetie pop, so, yeah, best guess—the bigmouths are onto me. Next question."

"Alright. Well, what's the word on the bigmouths?" Dean asked.

"Their tentacles are everywhere. I-I'm looking at bankers, military high-ups…"

"This is why you didn't call me back." Dean frowned.

"Hey, cut me some slack." Frank shrugged. "You called me like four days ago."

"I called you four weeks ago, Frank!"

"What? No. Really?" Frank frowned. "Days, weeks—quit busting my chops."

"What, are you kidding me?" Dean scoffed.

"You cool your heels, Buster Brown."

"Frank, I paid you 15 grand for this!" Dean exclaimed.

"Yeah, I get that—

"No, you don't get that! Dick Roman is every card in my hit deck." Dean interrupted. "You understand that? Those numbers, they got something to do with him, okay? Bobby died for those numbers!"

"Look, I'm sorry about Bobby," Frank said sincerely. "I really am. You know, this one time, we were in Fresno, and we got stuck-

"No. No, no, no." Dean shook his head. "I'm not gonna play 'this one time with Bobby' crap, alright? I'm not gonna get all warm and fuzzy with somebody else who barely knew him."

"Just trying to make friendly conversation." Frank defended.

"This is not a friendship, Frank. I'm paying you!"

"Hey. You know what you need? A little LSD, a little shiatsu—

Dean shook his head. "I'm out of here."

"Hey, you want to know what those numbers are?" Frank asked. "Bupkis. They're not lottery numbers, license—

"I know that, Frank. Thank you." Dean sighed.

"Which leaves us little else to do but probability generate."

Dean raised his brows. "Come again?"

Frank sat down at a computer. "You run most reasonable possibilities for a Levi-related five-digit number written by a dying drunk, you come up flat. Know what you start to wonder? 'Hey, maybe I'm missing a number'."

"Well, how do you figure?" Dean asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Frank replied sarcastically. "Because Bobby was dying of brain trauma. I just had a tickle there was a reason nothing was popping out at us, so I set up a program to run possibilities for six numbers, seven, eight. But good news."

"Good news?"

"Never had to go past six, because this…my little lamb," Frank punched something into the computer. "Is coordinates."

"You sure? To what?" Dean asked.

"A field in Wisconsin."

"No. No, Bobby didn't give us coordinates to some patch of weeds in Cheeseville." Dean denied.

"No, he gave you coordinates to a parcel recently purchased by William, Inc., a subsidiary of," he made a trumpeting noise. "Richard Roman Enterprises."

"So, what do we do?" Dean questioned.

"Stay away. Or, if we're stupid…we go there and set up surveillance."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were in the morgue with the morgue attendant.

"Matthew Havlena—found in a ditch off the interstate." The attendant explained.

"Cause of death?" Angela asked.

"Missing five pints of blood couldn't have helped. Puncture wounds—femoral arteries and carotid."

"So, what? Some kind of animal attack?" Sam asked.

"Or a vampire." The attendant replied.

Sam and Angela looked at the man without smiling.

"Huh." The attendant muttered. "That…usually gets at least a chuckle."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were walking outside. Sam had the phone on speaker.

"Find Frank?" Angela asked.

 _"Yeah."_ Dean's voice rang through. _"Those numbers? Coordinates. Dick bought some land. We're headed there now."_

"Wait, wait, wait." Sam frowned. "You're just gonna drive right up to—

 _"Relax. It's a field, not the Death Star."_ Dean replied. _"Dick's at a TED Conference. It's all over The Huffington Post."_

Sam chuckled. "Wait, wait, wait. Since when do you read?"

 _"Know your enemy, Sam,"_ Dean replied. _"What's going on with the girl?"_

"I don't think she even knows her dad's in the life." Angela sighed. "So far, we got three missing truckers and one blood-free body."

 _"Good times,"_ Dean replied. _"Alright, well, keep me posted."_

~/~\~

Frank opened the trailer door as Dean hung up.

"Got the equipment arranged," Frank called. "Come and get your costume on. We can scoot."

Dean frowned. "Costume? What?"

~/~\~

Dean looked around the field. "What the hell's so special about this place?"

"I love a mystery," Frank replied. "Now get up in that cherry picker and act like you're fixing something."

Dean and Frank were wearing grey overall uniforms and hard hats.

"I don't know how to drive that thing." Dean gestured to the truck.

"You think I do?" Frank scoffed.

"Well, why do I got to be the sap—

Frank pointed to his own uniform, then to Dean's. "This one says 'manager'. That one says 'technician'. Sometime this month?"

Dean rolled his eyes and climbed up into the cherry picker. "Come on." He muttered. Dean clipped a carabiner from his safety harness onto the cherry picker and put it in motion. "Okay…Up. Moving."

Frank looked around through binoculars and saw several surveillance cameras. "Oh, crap. Come on down, Tarzan!"

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Get down here," Frank repeated. "We need to move. They got this place wired up the wazoo."

"They're watching us right now?" Dean asked.

"Nah, nah, they're just watching Cheech and Ed from Ma Bell." Frank sassed.

"You know, it's gonna be a little difficult to set up surveillance if there's, uh, surveillance everywhere," Dean noted.

"Right." Frank nodded. "So, we need to tap into theirs instead."

~/~\~

Frank tapped some keys and the computer screen showed the field.

"Alright, now what?" Dean asked.

"You look horrific," Frank replied. "When was the last time you really slept a night?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's just work, alright?"

"This is it. We watch the screens. I can take the first shift. You're no use if you can't even…"

Dean immediately fell asleep and started snoring lightly.

"Keep your eyes open." Frank finished.

Dean's phone vibrated in his pocket, but he didn't wake.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were looking at John's journal while Sam left Dean a message.

"Dean, hey. So, we think this guy was hunting a Vetala. Um, Dad took one down back in the day. Silver knife to the heart, twist, they're done." Sam explained. "He says they're maladjusted loner types—like to knock a guy out, drag him home, feed slow. So, if Krissy's dad got grabbed, there's a chance he might still be alive. Be nice to get this girl's dad back home to her, you know? Alright, we could use your help. Call us."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into the diner and towards Marlene.

"Excuse me," Angela said. "Your manager said that you might be able to help us."

"Sure." Marlene nodded. "What can I do for you?"

Sam held up a picture of Krissy's father. "You ever see this man?"

Marlene looked at the photo. "I…might have served him the other day. I think he may have gone to talk to that girl out there."

Marlene indicated the suggestively-dressed woman that was currently outside.

"Thanks." Angela nodded.

~/~\~

"Hey!" Angela called as they walked out of the diner. "Can we talk to you for a second, uh…" she read the name on the necklace that the woman was wearing. "Sally?"

"You ever see this man?" Sam asked, showing her the same picture he showed Marlene.

"No." Sally shook her head.

"You sure?" Angela asked.

"It's not safe here. Somewhere private." Sally whispered.

Sally walked between the parked trucks and the two hunters followed behind her.

"Something's happening around here. I'm afraid I'll be next." Sally said.

"Tell us what you saw," Sam replied.

"I don't know what I saw."

Sam and Angela drew their knives as they heard someone approaching behind them. Marlene grabbed Sam by the wrist and throat and shoved him against a truck. Sam dropped the knife.

"Sally, run!" Angela yelled.

Sally's pupils became almost vertical and her teeth became pointed. She grabbed Angela and twisted her arm so she dropped her knife. Sally forced Angela to her knees and bit into her neck, causing her to yell in pain.

"Angie!" Sam yelled as he fought against Marlene.

Angela fell unconscious on the ground. Sally turned and kicked Sam's legs and he dropped to his knees. Sally held Sam's head as Marlene bit his neck. Soon Sam fell unconscious as well.


	22. Adventures in Babysitting Part 2

Dean woke up groggily and looked around. Frank was monitoring the field on four different computer monitors.

"How long was I out?" Dean asked.

"'Bout 36 hours," Frank replied nonchalantly.

Dean frowned. "What? Why didn't you wake me?!"

"Not your butler," Frank replied. "Come see this."

Dean got up and walked towards Frank's chair. "What?"

"This is where it gets good," Frank zoomed in a parked car in which two people were kissing.

"Frank, you need to get out more," Dean remarked.

"Not that." Frank rolled his eyes.

The screen showed a woman walking across the field. Frank zoomed in on her. She was carrying documents and a walkie-talkie.

"Check out Sarah Palin," Frank noted.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Who is she?"

"Amanda Willer."

Frank hit a key. Amanda's California driver's license, Richard Roman Enterprises security pass, and a close-up photo appeared on the screen.

"Surprise, surprise—works for Richard Roman," Frank noted.

Frank hit another key. The screen showed three men in uniforms walking towards Amanda.

"What was she doing?" Dean asked.

"Being a naughty, bossy little girl," Frank replied.

Dean blinked a few times. "Well, I hate to ask for that in the non-porno version."

"They're surveying," Frank replied. "They're getting ready to build something."

"Build what?" Dean questioned.

"Exactly. What? No idea."

"Well, how do we find out?" Dean sighed.

"We watch," Frank replied. "Patience, grasshopper."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, patience and I aren't exactly on terms."

"Well, then go out and kill something or whatever you kids do to blow off steam." Frank retorted, causing Dean to roll his eyes again. "What, you don't like my suggestion?"

"I don't think you're in a position to be giving suggestions, alright?" Dean replied. "I think you're one tinfoil hat away from a rubber room."

"Did I mention you look awful?" Frank sassed.

"Yes," Dean grumbled. "Maybe because somebody I cared about just got shot in the head. And this is like shoving a rock up a hill. And—screw you."

"Here's my advice you didn't ask for—quit."

"What?!" Dean scoffed.

"You want to keep going?" Frank asked.

"I want Dick Roman on a spit," Dean replied.

"But you're gonna drive yourself into the ground first. Good plan." Frank retorted.

Dean paused for a moment. "I'm not gonna quit. It's not even an option. I'm not gonna walk out on my brother and sister."

"Okay, then, fine. Do what I did." Frank shrugged.

"What?" Dean asked. "Go native? Stock up on C-rations?"

"No, cupcake," Frank replied. "What I did when I was 26 and came home to find my wife and two kids gutted on the floor. Decide to be fine until the end of the week. Make yourself smile because you're alive and that's your job. Then do it again the next week."

"So, fake it?" Dean asked.

"I call it being professional," Frank replied. "Do it right, with a smile, or don't do it."

Dean's phone buzzed. He listened to the message that Sam had left him and sighed.

"No, no, no," Dean muttered. "Sam, that's not right."

"What's the gruff?" Frank asked.

"He…" Dean stopped himself when he noticed an incoming call. "Sam." He answered.

 _"No. Who's this?"_ Krissy's voice rang through.

"Who's this?" Dean retorted.

 _"Sam and Angela told me to call if I didn't hear anything back from them,"_ Krissy explained.

Dean frowned, looking extremely worried.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela woke, each of them tied to a chair. There were two dead men in the room, and Krissy's father was tied to a chair near Sam and Angela.

"That ringing in your ears—it's from the venom," Lee said.

"Venom?" Sam and Angela asked in unison.

"Yeah," Lee replied. "They hit you with some kind of knockout juice. You seem to be handling this pretty well."

"Yeah. Well, um…We were out there looking for you." Angela replied. "Lee Chambers?"

Lee nodded.

"We're friends of Bobby Singer's," Sam noted. "Krissy called. She's—she's fine. She is. She's just worried about you. So, how do we get out of here?"

"I don't know." Lee sighed. "They'll be back pretty quick here."

"Just the two of them?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, they're a tag team," Lee replied. "One of them knocks you out. The other one dumps your rig or your ride or whatever miles down the road. It's a pretty nice system they got."

"They've been draining you," Sam commented.

"Yeah. They tap you three, four times, you're dead." Lee explained. "And let me tell you…you can't see…you can't walk. I thought they'd kill me right off, but they don't have to. They got nothing to worry about."

"How many times have they fed on you?" Angela asked.

"Three," Lee answered.

~/~\~

"Did Sam and Angela tell you where they were going?" Krissy asked.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Dean replied. "What did you tell them?"

"Uh…they checked my dad's room."

"There?" Dean pointed.

"Yeah." Krissy nodded.

Dean looked around Lee's room and turned to Krissy, who was standing in the doorway. "Look, I really don't have time to hold your hand here, so—

"What are you trying to say?" Krissy tilted her head.

"I'm saying go wait in the living room," Dean instructed. "Your dad may not want you to know every single thing about him."

Krissy leaned on the doorway and put a hand on her hip. Dean opened Lee's closet and looked behind the hanging clothes. Only the corner of a map was still pinned to the board. Dean pulled it down with a frown.

"Where is it?" Dean asked.

Krissy raised her brows. "You mean everything about the job my dad was working?"

"Sam said you didn't know," Dean replied.

Krissy shrugged. "Sam and Angela seemed competent, so I figured, fine—I'll do what my dad always tells me to. 'Be a regular kid, don't say anything, stay out of the line of fire. Let the adults work it out'. So much for that."

"Alright." Dean rolled his eyes. "Hand it over. Okay? I have had a long, long week."

Krissy pulled out a gun and pointed it at Dean.

"Alright, I get it." Dean sighed. "You're a tough kid. But I'm trying to get Sam, Angie, and your dad back."

"My dad left," Krissy's voice shook. "And he didn't come back. Sam and Angela left, and they didn't come back. I give you the info, you leave, you don't come back."

"I'm coming back," Dean assured.

"I'm coming with you," Krissy replied.

"N-no. No. Hell, no." Dean replied.

"I'm coming!" Krissy snapped. "Or you're not going."

Dean snatched the gun out of Krissy's hand.

"Ow!" Krissy exclaimed.

"Now hand it over," Dean demanded.

"I can't," Krissy replied. "I burned it."

"You what?" Dean frowned.

"But lucky for you," she smirked. "I memorized it all first."

~/~\~

Dean and Krissy were driving in the car.

"Hey, I have a question," Krissy spoke up.

"Alright, here's the deal," Dean replied. "I'm a fun guy. I'm actually awesome. Okay? But right now, I'm not in the mood. I'm neck-deep in some serious crap, and if this wasn't an emergency, I would drop your ass off at the nearest mall."

"What serious crap?" Krissy asked.

"Revenge crap, alright?" Dean replied. "Now shut up. Eat a cookie or something."

Krissy put her headphones in her ears, then took them out a few moments later. "One thing doesn't make sense, though. My dad's a pretty great hunter, and Angela seems like she can take care of herself. Also, your brother's the size of a car, so…so how'd this thing get all three of them?"

"Vetalas usually hunt in pairs," Dean replied. "Sam, Angie, and your dad assumed it was one thing hunting solo."

"Why'd they think that?" Krissy frowned.

"Because they had the wrong info." Dean sighed. "Or, best available. Our dad took down a loner years ago. Sam and Angie have his journal. Your dad must've been going on the same facts."

"And you know different 'cause…?" Krissy's brows furrowed.

"Because I hunted one that turned out to be two a couple years back," Dean replied.

"And you never told Sam or Angela?" Krissy scoffed. "Wow, thanks. How 'bout sharing that with the rest of the class so we don't all get killed?"

"I hadn't met Angela yet and Sam was away at Stanford, smartass." Dean quipped.

"Sam went to college?" Krissy asked. "I thought you said your dad was a hunter."

"He was. We were. Sam quit, went to college." Dean explained. "You could too, you know," Dean added after a pause. "Got to college. Be a hunter slash pediatrician."

~/~\~

Sally entered and walked over to Sam, Angela, and Lee, who were still tied to their chairs.

"Hunter day at the all-you-can-eat." She smirked. "How's everyone feeling? Good?" she asked, getting no response. "Strong silent. Fine. I don't need much entertainment with my meal."

Sally sauntered over to Angela and leaned down to feed on her neck.

"Hey, Sally," Sam spoke up. "Uh, did I tell you about the Vetalas I took down in Utah?" he asked, causing her to look at him. "Yeah. You remind me of them. Except they were so much…younger."

Sally glared and walked over to Sam.

"I tied 'em up." Sam taunted. "Not because I had to. More so…I could take my time."

"You're lying." Sally accused.

"No. I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed cutting up your sisters." Sam replied.

"Shut up!" Sally yelled. She grabbed Sam's hair and bit into his neck, causing him to yell in pain.

"Sam!" Angela thrashed against the ropes holding her.

Sam's eyes rolled back into his head and they closed.

~/~\~

Dean and Krissy were in the car, which was parked outside of the diner.

"You ever actually work with your dad?" Dean asked.

"Sure. 'Course." Krissy shrugged.

"No, I mean work, not shoot cans in the woods."

"I mean, I help all the time," Krissy assured.

"So, no," Dean replied. "Well, right about now, your stomach should be pretty knotted up."

"Not really." Krissy retorted. "Look, maybe this was a lot harder for you when you were my age."

"Oh, you think you're a good actress," Dean replied. "You're not."

Krissy scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but it's all over your face—you're scared."

"Quit treating me like I'm some girl," Krissy replied. "I've been prepping for this my entire life."

"Training's one thing." Dean sighed. "Doing—whole 'nother beast."

"Wow," Krissy replied sarcastically. "You really scared me straight. Thanks, Dean."

Marlene walked across the parking lot and got into the cab of a truck.

"Why is that waitress getting into that truck?" Krissy asked.

"I'm not explaining the R-rated crap to you," Dean muttered.

"The _front_ of the truck," Krissy rolled her eyes. "Not the back, Dean."

Marlene drove the truck away from the diner.

~/~\~

Dean and Krissy followed the truck, which was now parked by the side of a road near a building.

"Alright," Dean held out his fist to Krissy.

Krissy's brows furrowed. "What century is this? No one fist-bumps anymore."

"Come on. Give it up. Good work." Dean wiggled his fist.

Krissy rolled her eyes. "You're a dweeb."

Dean wiggled his fist again. Krissy finally put out her hand and Dean grabbed it, putting handcuffs on her.

"What the hell?!" Krissy snapped.

"I got an idea," Dean attached the handcuffs to the steering wheel. "How 'bout you stay here?"

"Oh, you jackass." Krissy glared.

"Yeah, well, I'm the jackass who ain't bringing a kid in there, period."

"Why?" Krissy challenged. "I can do everything you can do."

"I'll bring them back. Trust me." Dean promised.

"Please," Krissy shook her head. "They're probably dead."

"You don't know that," Dean replied.

"It's been days." Krissy murmured. "Probably just a pile of meat. I've seen it. People die, Dean. I watched my mom get torn to shreds. Let me go in there and kill them."

"No." Dean shook his head. "Sorry."

"You're such a hypocrite." She scoffed. "How come you get to do it and I don't?"

"Because I'm the grown-up!" Dean snapped. "Give it to me." He held out his hand.

"What?" Krissy played dumb.

"Your lock-pick," Dean replied. "I will frisk you."

Krissy rolled her eyes and handed over the lock-pick.

"Thank you," Dean replied before he got out of the car and walked away.

~/~\~

Dean picked the lock to the abandoned building and entered. Dean saw one of the dead men, then saw Sam, Angela, Lee, and a fourth person tied to chairs. Sally stood next to the unknown man and Marlene stood next to Angela and Lee. Sam was still unconscious.

"Good thing we picked up a new one," Marlene said. "This one's about tapped out. You want to finish him together?"

"Sure. Love to." Sally smiled.

Dean grabbed a metal bar and hit Sally, who fell to the ground. He drew his knife as Marlene advanced on him.

"Not so fast." Marlene snarled.

Dean swung at Marlene, but she hit him and he dropped the knife. She slammed him against a metal cage and grabbed him by the throat. Sam groggily woke up. Dean grabbed another metal bar and hit Marlene. She fell to the ground and Dean picked up his knife.

Krissy ran in suddenly. "Dad, hold on—I got you!" she said, running across the room.

Sally grabbed Krissy's leg suddenly.

"No!" Lee yelled.

Sally got up, pulled Krissy behind Lee, Angela, and Sam. She held Krissy from behind. Dean held his knife to Marlene's throat.

"Let her go…or Little Miss Sunshine here gets it," Sally warned.

Sally's eyes and teeth transformed. Dean took his knife away from Marlene's throat. She hurried over to stand behind Lee. Sally's eyes and teeth returned to normal.

~/~\~

"What the hell were you thinking, bringing her here?" Lee asked Dean.

Dean walked towards Sally and Krissy.

"Now drop the knife!" Sally yelled.

Dean put the knife on the floor. "She's just a child. Let her go."

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be letting anyone go." Sally glared.

"Daddy…" Krissy whimpered.

"It's okay, baby." Lee soothed. "Everything's gonna be fine."

"Alright." Marlene cut in. "Enough with the family bonding. It's time for you to shut up." She added before biting into Lee's neck.

"Daddy, no!" Krissy cried. "Dean!"

"He can't help you. No one can." Sally purred.

Krissy pulled a knife out of her sleeve, spun around, and stabbed Sally. "I guess I'll have to help myself, then."

Krissy twisted the knife. Sally's body turned grey and her teeth transformed. She fell to the floor, dead. Marlene advanced on Dean, who picked up the knife. Krissy cut the roped binding Angela and worked on Sam's ropes. Angela took a knife from her boot and stabbed Marlene as she turned from Dean to her. She twisted the knife. Marlene's teeth transformed and her body turned black as she died. After Krissy freed Sam, she worked on the ropes binding her unconscious father.

"Bad actress, huh?" Krissy smirked.

"Yeah, I take it back," Dean admitted.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked down the hospital hallway. They entered a room that Krissy was sitting outside of. Lee was in a hospital bed in the room.

"Yeah, I was hoping you'd stop by," Lee said. "I wanted to thank you."

"It's no problem," Sam replied.

"No, you saved my life. Krissy's, too."

"Actually, uh, she kind of saved ours," Angela replied.

"Don't thank us." Dean cut in. "Quit. Your daughter's 14 years old. She's already a hunter with a-a kill under her belt. I'm not trying to be a dick, but what do you think that does to her life-span? She could still be a regular kid."

"You know, I got into this for a reason." Lee defended.

"I know." Dean nodded. "Your family. That's the same reason you should get out now."

"I can't. You ever know anyone who left the life?" Lee asked.

"No." Dean sighed. "They all get killed first."

"Well, uh…we should probably let you get some rest," Sam said.

"Yeah." Lee nodded, raising his hand in farewell.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela exited the hospital, followed by Krissy.

"Dean!" Krissy called. "Thanks for saying bye, asshat."

Angela took Sam's hand in hers and smiled. "You know, she kind of reminds me of myself when I was her age." She commented as they walked to the car, leaving Dean to talk with Krissy.

"Oh, what?" Dean scoffed. "Now you're sentimental?"

"No." Krissy rolled her eyes. "Just wanted to tell you that you're kind of amusing for an old man."

Dean chuckled. "How'd you get out of them cuffs, anyway?"

"Girl's got to have her secrets." Krissy shrugged.

"Bobby pin." Dean realized. "You know, you could've gotten yourself killed."

"I saved your bacon," Krissy replied.

"My point stands." Dean sighed. "But, yes."

"So…Guess I'm retiring—one and done." Krissy shrugged.

"Really? How you feel about that?" Dean asked.

"Who knows?" she smirked. "Maybe I'll go to Stanford like Sam." She added. She held out her fist to Dean, who bumped it. "We're so lame."

"Yeah, we are." Dean agreed. "Take care of yourself."

Dean walked over to the car, where Sam and Angela were. Krissy went back into the hospital.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were driving in the car. Sam sat in the backseat with Angela.

"You know what? Good for them." Sam smiled slightly.

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "It's nice to walk away from someone and feel like they could be okay. How about you? How you doing? You alright?"

"No," Sam admitted. "I'm definitely not. But, you know, I mean, um, I think, maybe…I just want to work."

Dean nodded.

"Should we even ask?" Angela raised a brow.

"I'm fine," Dean assured.

"Fine, meaning…?" Sam asked.

"You're right. We should just…work, right?" Dean replied. "And figure out a way to kid Dick Roman's ass. Well, hey, we are the professionals."

Sam nodded and rested his head on Angela's lap so he could fall asleep. She ran her fingers through his hair and yawned. Dean just smiled sadly as he drove.

* * *


	23. Time After Time Part 1

A man wearing a fedora and a long coat walked along the sidewalk in front of a house and then turned down a nearby alley. Dean, Sam, and Angela were in a parked car on the opposite side of the street.

"Alright, let's do this," Dean said. "Move fast." He added, cocking his gun.

"Wait, wait, wait," Angela frowned. "What's the plan exactly?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't die."

The three hunters got out of the car and chased after the mystery man.

"He's heading downtown," Dean noted. "Alright, you guys take the street. I'll take the alley. I'll meet you in the middle."

Dean turned an alleyway corner and say the man in the fedora kneeling over and holding the head of another man, who was on his back on the ground. There was a red light above the prone man's face which seemed to be absorbed by the man in the fedora.

"Son of a…" Dean muttered.

Dean ran towards the men. As the red light from the prone man was completely absorbed by the man in the fedora, he dropped the man and stood up. Sam and Angela came around the corner and saw Dean tackle the mystery man. Dean and the man in the fedora disappeared in an explosion of red and white light.

"Dean?" Sam frowned.

Sam pulled Angela to him as the explosion reached them at their end of the alley. The light disappeared and everything was still. Dean and the man in the fedora were gone.

"Dean?!" Sam and Angela called out.

~/~\~

_Two Days Earlier_

Dean was sitting at the table with a bottle of whiskey and a laptop, looking at websites related to Dick Roman. Sam and Angela were asleep on the bed. Angela's back was against Sam's chest and his arms were wrapped around her middle. Suddenly a cell phone rang. Sam groggily woke up and sat up with a groan. Angela whined slightly at the loss of contact.

"Don't give me that dirty-diaper look." Dean chastised. "I ain't calling you."

"Hello?" Sam answered sleepily.

 _"Sam, it's Jody Mills."_ The sheriff's voice rang through. _"I wake you?"_

"The sheriff? Uh…" he turned on the lamp, causing Angela to bury her face in her pillow. "Yeah. Um, I mean, uh—

 _"Listen, I got something that smells like you three."_ She interrupted. _"A body turned up in Canton, Ohio. Local P.D.'s trying to bury the story and the body."_

"Okay, um, so, uh, what's up with the body?" Sam asked.

 _"Well, when it went missing, it was a perfectly normal grad student named Charles Durbin,"_ Jody replied. _"When it turned up, the thing was mummified minus the wrapping. This is actually the second body found like this in the last couple weeks. Sound like your kind of thing?"_

"Yeah, yeah, that's um…that's our kind of number." Sam agreed. "Hey, question—how does a Sheriff in Sioux Falls get wind of a case in Ohio?"

 _"I'm just that nosy."_ Jody chuckled. _"Look, after everything I've been through with you three and…with Bobby, you know, something like this pops up on the wire, it catches my ear. What can I say?"_

"Well, we'll look into it," Sam assured. "Thanks, sheriff."

_"Call me after, okay?"_

_"_ Yeah," Sam replied before hanging up. "That was Sheriff Mills. She caught us one."

"Oh, I feel bad." Angela sat up sleepily, her hair slightly messy. "We didn't get her anything."

Sam pressed a kiss to her temple and looked at Dean. "Y'know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope you're watching cartoon smut, 'cause reading about Dick Roman crap over and over again is just self-punishment."

Dean paused and closed the laptop. "It's called anime, and it's an art form."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela, dressed in the FBI apparel, pulled up to a beaten-down house with a security fence around it.

"Well, this looks nice," Dean said sarcastically. "Check around back?"

Dean carried a table into an empty downstairs room. Sam and Angela came down the stairs carrying chairs.

"Well, there's a…semi-functioning bathroom and one un-rancid bedroom." Sam sighed.

"Define semi-functioning, and do not use the words 'hole in the floor'," Dean replied.

Sam paused and held out his right fist on his left palm and nodded meaningfully to Dean. Angela sighed, knowing where this was going. Dean took up the same position as Sam, and the played rock-paper-scissors.

~/~\~

Sam rolled out a bedroll in an empty bedroom. Dean entered the room and stood near the door.

"How does paper beat a rock? It's stupid." Dean pouted.

Sam and Angela looked at each other and didn't respond. Dean sighed and left the room.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were dressed in the FBI apparel. Angela was holding the police file.

"Kids playing hide-and-seek found the body," Angela explained.

"Wow. Very King Tut." Dean replied, looking at the picture.

"Yeah, so, uh, this is where the eyewitness to the assault lives, but the cops are calling him an unreliable witness," Angela replied.

"Because?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"Let's find out." Sam sighed.

Dean, Sam, and Angela knocked at the door of a house and held out their badges. A man with a blanket around his shoulder opened the door.

"Special Agents Smith, Smith, and…Smith." Dean introduced. "No relation."

"Whoa," The man replied. "Do you mind if we, uh…My mom's sleeping in there." He added, stepping outside. "S-so, how can I…?"

"Oh, we, uh—we had a few questions about the incident you witness in the alley," Sam explained.

The man frowned. "You just gonna laugh at my story like the rest of the suits?"

"We're not gonna laugh at you," Dean assured.

The man pursed his lips. "Alright, well, I'm on the steps…medicating…when I hear fighting. So I look. There's my neighbor Durbin, and some dude dressed like my grandpa's got him by the neck, right?"

Dean's brows furrowed. "What do you mean he looks like your grandpa?"

"Uh…snappy shoes, suit, one of those, um, Justin Timberlake hats." The man shrugged.

"Y-you mean a—a fedora?" Angela frowned.

"Aha!" the man nodded.

"Did you see anything else?" Sam asked.

"This red, like energy passed through Durbin to hat guy. Even my watch stopped." The man explained. "Durbs…he aged before my eyes. He looked like a raisin."

"Well, we believe you." Angela gave the man a comforting smile.

The man smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks for your help," Dean added.

"Thank you, officers."

The three hunters turned to leave.

"Wow." Dean breathed.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were still in their FBI apparel, minus the blazers. Sam was using the laptop, Angela was flipping through a book, and Dean leafed through John's journal. Dean sighed and closed the journal.

"Yep. Nothing that turns a dude into a crypt keeper." Dean said. "You guys?"

Dean checked to see that a beer can was next to him on the table was empty and grabbed a few fresh ones out of a cooler.

"Uh, well, greater Canton turns out kind of a hot spot for weird dead bodies," Sam replied.

"Hmm. You don't say." Dean muttered.

"Yeah. News archives." Sam replied. "They're not exactly reporting, uh, mummifies. But still, uh—1928…three deaths cited as spontaneous combustion. Bodies, quote, 'shriveled despite no signs of fire'."

"Little stretch, but okay," Angela noted.

"'74…" Sam hit a button on the keyboard. "Three bodies found with leathery decay. Uh, '57…three more, severe dehydration. This time one made the front page. Girl named Terry Cervantes found a corpse near her church."

"Any pattern here other than the location?" Dean asked.

"Random vics, random years." Sam shrugged. "But, they seem to drop in threes."

"That's two down, one to go." Dean sighed. "Alright, let me drive for a sec."

"What, are you gonna look up more anime, or are you strictly into Dick now?" Sam asked, smirking slightly.

Dean typed 'Canton webcams' into a search engine and brought up _'Securi-Net Webcams',_ which showed ten images from different cameras.

"Hmm." Dean hummed smugly.

"Are those local feeds?" Angela frowned.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"How did you do that so fast?" Sam asked.

"A little tutorial from Frank." Dean shrugged. "Don't worry. We'll pretend this never happened. Now, mummy numero dos was, uh, found at the Gas n' Sip near Main Street, correct?"

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

Dean punched something into the search box and brought up four security camera feeds. "Alright, well, here's all the cameras around that store."

"You need to teach us that trick," Sam muttered.

A man wearing a fedora and a long coat appeared in one of the feeds.

"Hey, check it out—Timberlake," Dean noted.

"Wait a sec," Angela frowned, grabbing the laptop.

Dean pouted slightly. "Can't let me bask in the glory for one second, can you?"

"Shut up," Angela replied. "Look."

The laptop screen showed a close-up of the man from the security camera feed, and a close-up of the man in the fedora and coat in the old newspaper photo.

"He hasn't aged a day, has he?" Dean asked. "Alright, well, if he's been popping up for decades now, then somebody's bound to know who he is, right? Is there any chance that, uh, Terry's still local?"

~/~\~

Terry held the newspaper in her hands. "You know it's so pretty in the spring." She reminisced. "Everything's blooming. That's why I walked home that way—to see the flowers. Instead, I found that body. I still have no idea what could have done that to a person."

"Do you recognize that man?" Dean asked, pointing to the man in the fedora.

"Yeah," Terry nodded. "I mean, he lives on my parents' street. Mr. Snider."

"Where'd you say your parents lived?" Dean asked.

~/~\~

_Now_

Dean, Sam, and Angela were eating take-out in the car, which was parked across the street from a house.

"So, what exactly is this thing?" Dean asked. "Some sort of vampire who got too sucky?"

"Nope," Sam replied. "Coroner's reports said there was blood in both bodies. 300-year-old blood, but blood."

Dean watched the man in the fedora stepped out of the house. "Guys, guys. Uh, fedora dude."

The man in the fedora walked along the sidewalk and turned down the alley.

"Alright, let's do this," Dean said. "Move fast." He added, cocking his gun.

"Wait, wait, wait," Angela frowned. "What's the plan exactly?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't die."

The three hunters got out of the car and chased after the man.

"He's heading downtown," Dean noted. "Alright, you guys take the street. I'll take the alley. I'll meet you in the middle."

Dean turned an alleyway corner and say the man in the fedora kneeling over and holding the head of another man, who was on his back on the ground. There was a red light above the prone man's face which seemed to be absorbed by the man in the fedora.

"Son of a…" Dean muttered.

Dean ran towards the men. As the red light from the prone man was completely absorbed by the man in the fedora, he dropped the man and stood up. Sam and Angela came around the corner and saw Dean tackle the mystery man. Dean and the man in the fedora disappeared in an explosion of red and white light.

Dean and the man tussled on the ground for a bit. Dean grabbed the man's hand and noticed that he was wearing a ring with an hourglass symbol. The man broke away and ran off.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, getting to his feet. "Hey!" he repeated as he chased after the guy and drew his gun. "Hey!"

Dean reached the street where the shops were and looked around. He frowned at his new, unusual surroundings.

"Hey, you!" an officer exclaimed. "Drop the gun! Put it down! Drop the gun!"

"Alright," Dean replied, dropping his gun to the ground. He looked around in confusion as the officers advanced on him.

~/~\~

A police officer was examining Dean's possessions while Dean sat at the table in handcuffs.

"Okay, can I just—

"Don't." the officer stopped him. "Listen to me. Hey, if you tell me you're from the Bureau one more time, I'm gonna air you out myself. Got it?" he added as he turned on Dean's cell phone. "No Signal…Are you some kind of Jerry spy?"

Dean's brows furrowed. "Jerry who?"

The officer scoffed. "And a terrible one at that." He muttered. He grabbed Dean's FBI badge. "This badge was issued 68 years from now. Ace work, kraut-muncher."

Dean frowned and calculated the date. "'44?" he realized. "I'm stuck in 1944?!"

The officer gave him a weird look. "We're all stuck in 1944, ya bunny."

Suddenly, a man entered the room. The officer got up from the table and walked over to him.

"Take a powder." The man instructed.

"Yes, sir." The officer obeyed as he left the room.

Dean sighed, frustrated. "Look, I don't even like frigging sauerkraut, okay, so you can just skip the—

"What happened in the alley?" the man interrupted. "And paint me a real picture."

Dean debated lying but decided against it. "Alright, well, I'm 'twelve monkeyed' no matter what I say, so here goes. I was chasing this dude," he said as the man leafed through a folder. "Uh, I'd just seen him mummify a guy. Yeah. So, I jumped him. He lights up red. Poof, we're in 1944."

The man tossed the folder onto the table and sat across from Dean. "Tell me more about the red light."

Dean frowned. "Are you seriously asking—

"You want out of this jail, you're gonna tell me everything you can about that man and the so-called red light."

"Okay," Dean replied. "I saw it, and then we were here."

"Would you say that, uh…it was all around you or that more that it came from inside this fella?" the man asked.

"You believe me," Dean replied, slightly shocked. "Are you…? You're a hunter."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The man denied it quickly.

"Demons, ghosts, shifters," Dean replied. "Hey, I've killed 'em all. And you're the same. Just 68 years before me, huh?"

The man exhaled sharply and held out a hand. "And your name is…?"

Dean, still in the cuffs, shook his hand. "Dean…Winchester."

"Ness. Eliot Ness." The man introduced himself.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were adding to the research that was taped to a wall when Sam's phone started ringing.

"I'll grab it, babe," Angela said, walking over to where the phone was charging. "Dean?" she answered.

 _"No."_ Jody's voice rang through. _"Why? Where's Dean?"_

Angela put the phone on speaker and walked over to Sam. "The thing that's been mummifying people took him in a frigging ball of light and disappeared."

 _"You guys get that a lot?"_ Jody asked.

"Yeah, more than most people," Sam replied.

_"Well, I got you into this, so—_

"No, no, no, you didn't." Sam cut her off. "A-all you did was just—

 _"Shut up, Sam."_ Jody interrupted. _"How can I help?"_

Sam and Angela looked at each other.

"Well, um…How do you feel about driving and lifting boxes?" Sam asked.

~/~\~

Dean was standing in the police station interview room, no longer in the handcuffs. Eliot Ness entered the room.

"I-I got to tell you, I mean, _'Untouchables'_ is, like, one of my most favorite movies ever." Dean gushed.

Eliot Ness looked slightly confused. "What?"

"I must have seen that thing, like 50 times." Dean continued.

"Seen it?" Eliot asked. "What, like, I'm in the—

"Oh, yeah, yeah!" Dean exclaimed. "You don't even know! Oh, you are—pbht!"

"Look, hey, wait, wait, wait," Eliot frowned. "Let's just…slow it down. Okay? Now, time travel. Is that something you find up a lot of sleeves in the future or…?"

"No, no, no," Dean shook his head. "It's, uh, not normally on the menu. Trust me. I'm as surprised as you are that I'm here."

"So, we're hunting the same thing, just in different centuries," Eliot noted as he pushed a folder towards Dean. "Two bodies. A few days apart just a little over a month ago. One witness said that she saw an assailant light up red after sucking the life out of a man."

"Awesome," Dean muttered.

Eliot's brows furrowed. "How does that fill you with awe? Look, Dean, this thing, it kills—

"In threes." Dean and Eliot said in unison.

Dean chuckled. "But you already know that."

"He's two down." Eliot nodded. "You're coming with me. We've got to get this thing before it grabs the last one."

Dean smirked slightly. "Okay, so, so, wait, uh…Does…does this mean that I'm an Untouchable now?"

"It means we got to get you into some new clothes," Eliot replied. "You look like some kind of bindlestiff."

Dean frowned. "Stiff your br—bin—what?"

~/~\~

A woman in a tailor's shop was measuring and pinning trousers at a table. Eliot and Dean pulled up in a car outside. Dean got out of the car and smiled at the passing serviceman. Eliot grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him into the shop.

"What's the rumpus, Eliot?" the woman asked.

"Ezra Moore." Eliot introduced. "Dean Winchester."

"Hey." Dean smiled.

"Who's he?" Ezra asked. "Some farmer clown?"

"He's, uh, from the future," Eliot explained.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Gas costs four bucks. You can get cheese out of a spray can. And…the President, he's a black guy. I could go on."

"Paint me impressed," Ezra replied. "I assume you need some clothes. Come on."

~/~\~

Angela opened the door and Jody entered, carrying boxes.

"Hey, let us, uh—let us help you with those," Sam said.

"No, I got these," Jody assured. "Sam, why don't you grab the other 20 in my truck? Angie and I need to have some girl talk."

Sam chuckled and nodded in understanding. He walked out of the house and towards Jody's truck. Jody set down the boxes she was holding and turned to Angela.

"So, Bobby told you before he, uh..." Angela trailed off.

"Actually," Jody replied. "Dean texted me about it."

Angela raised her brows in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, now, let me see the ring," Jody grinned excitedly.

Angela held out her left hand. The engagement ring was a simple white gold ring with a pear-shaped emerald gemstone. It was simple but elegant at the same time.

Jody smiled softly as she held Angela's hand in her own. "It's _gorgeous_ , Angela." she murmured. "Are emeralds your favorite gemstone?"

Angela smiled. "Sam and I were both born on May 2nd. Emerald is our birthstone," she explained.

"Oh, that is so romantic," Jody replied. She pulled Angela into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you two, hon."

~/~\~

Dean was dressing in brown clothes, then came out of a fitting room wearing a dark suit. His hair was parted on the side. Eliot smiled and whistled. Dean looked at himself in the mirror as Ezra smoothed the suit jacket from behind.

"Awesome," Dean smirked.

"Awesome?" Ezra frowned. "You some religious kook?"

"No, he just likes saying that." Eliot shrugged.

"So, spill already," Ezra said. "What bucket of syrup did you two idjits step into?"

Dean chuckled.

"Something funny, sweetheart?" Ezra raised her brows.

Dean shook his head. "No, you, uh…You just kind of remind me of someone."

"Okay, Ezra…" Eliot changed the subject. "We need your help. It seems we're hunting a time traveler."

"Delightful," Ezra replied sarcastically.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were studying the research hanging on the wall while Jody was using a laptop.

"Got it," Jody said, bringing up the old photo that included the man in the fedora.

"Is that a—is that a ring on his finger?" Sam asked.

"Um…" Jody zoomed in on the man's hand. "Yeah."

Angela frowned, then got up and grabbed a binder, which she brought back to the table. "I know that symbol."

~/~\~

"It's the infinite hourglass," Ezra explained.

"That's the symbol I saw on his ring," Dean replied.

"Yeah, that's the mark of Chronos."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Who?"

~/~\~

"The God of time," Angela said.

"That's crazy," Jody replied.

"The thing is, with the Old Gods, once upon a time they were—they were just short of invincible," Angela explained. "But they got a lot of their mojo from worshippers, from people feeding them."

"These days, not so much." Jody nodded.

"Right, they're not what they used to be," Sam added. "But they make up for lack of power with being twice as pissed and a lot more hands-on."

"Okay," Jody sighed. "So, why's this God killing people?"

~/~\~

"Could be he's killing folks for his time juice," Ezra noted.

Ezra put a gun into a holster. Dean put a flask into his jacket pocket.

"Alright, well, how the hell am I gonna ride him back to 2012?" Dean asked.

"Well, you could let him grab you," Ezra suggested. "If you don't mind him using you for gasoline."

~/~\~

"So, how do we get Dean back?" Jody asked. "How do we even find this Chronos?"

Sam and Angela looked at each other.

"Best stab?" Sam sighed. "We find a way to summon a god."

~/~\~

"Look, let's just stick with what we know." Eliot sighed. "Ezra, see if you can find something in all this junk that will kill a God."

"No trouble at all," Ezra replied. "Come in a few hours, see what I can scrounge up."

Eliot looked at Dean. "You said you found his house? Well, let's go see if it's been built yet. And then let's kill that bastard, because that—

Dean put on a fedora. "Is the Chicago way."

Ezra frowned. "Chicago way?"

"Who talks like that?" Eliot scoffed slightly.

Dean faltered slightly. "Sean Connery."

"Come on." Ezra helped Dean into a coat.

"Never watching that movie again," Dean grumbled as he picked up the gun and left.

~/~\~

Dean and Eliot were outside the front door.

"It looks empty," Dean noted. "You got a lock-pick?"

"Sure," Eliot replied, kicking in the door. "Take a look around," he added as they entered. "Where's he getting all the lettuce to support this?"

Dean picked up a large journal and opened it revealing horse racing results. "He's using the 'Biff strategy'."

Eliot's brows furrowed. "Using what?"

"He's—Chronos is betting on races he already knows the outcome of," Dean explained. "Look at this."

"He's spent a lot of time in '44." Eliot frowned.

"Yeah," Dean pointed to initials in the journal. "What's L.Y.?"

"It's not a what. It's a who." Eliot corrected. "Lester Young. He lays bets for a lot of the flunkies in town. Let's say we go pay him a visit."

~/~\~

Dean pushed Lester down the stairs and into a chair.

"Hey!" Lester exclaimed. "W-whoa! Hey! Hey! Easy with the jacket! Yeah, I ain't talking. I'm no stoolie."

Dean punched Lester, who fell backward in the chair. Eliot looked at Dean, who shrugged.

"I learned it from you," Dean muttered. He pushed the chair and Lester upright.

"Look, you seem like a swell guy, Lester," Eliot said as Dean took off his jacket. "And I want to help you out. I do, but my partner here? He just back from the war. And he's spent the last two years kicking in Nazi skulls. If he doesn't kick in a skull every couple days, he gets real touchy."

"Lester." Dean glared. "That a German name?"

"Hey, hey, okay." Lester held up his hands. "There's no need to snap your cap. W-who you looking for?"

"Fella by the name of Snider," Eliot replied.

"What, that guy?" Lester scoffed. "I mean, bum never missed a bet, but he gave me the heebie-jeebies, so I cut him off."

"Where would you meet him for the payoff?" Eliot questioned.

Lester hesitated. Dean raised his arms threateningly and stepped closer.

"T-the Early Bird!" Lester exclaimed. "It's a dive on Haggerty. Practically lives in the joint."

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Jody were researching. Sam and Angela were at the table while Jody was near a pile of boxes.

"Dammit." Sam and Angela said.

"That's it!" Jody exclaimed seconds behind.

"Okay, yours sounds better." Sam looked at her. "You first."

"It says here that people could summon Chronos 'to compel him to tell them their futures'," Jody replied.

"And we've got the spell to do it right here." Angela sighed.

Jody's brows furrowed in confusion. "So why the 'dammit'?"

"'Cause calling Chronos isn't the problem," Sam replied. "It's making sure we summon him when Dean is right there…Literally with his hands on the guy, so he can surf him back."

"That's not automatic?" Jody frowned.

"No, it's more like we need to get the time on their end right to the exact second," Angela explained.

"Or we get an angry God but no big brother?"

"And he's trapped there forever." Sam nodded.

Jody picked up a bottle with a handwritten note attached. "Fine, you ass. You win for once. Enjoy. R." she read. "Who's 'R'?"

"Rufus, a family friend," Sam replied.

"Ah, right." Jody nodded.

"Wonder what they were betting over?" Sam asked.

"Well, whatever it was, Rufus sure was a sore loser," Jody commented.

Sam and Angela smiled. "Yeah." Sam agreed.

"It's weird, huh? It's like their life's a big puzzle." Jody murmured. "You just keep finding pieces of it scattered all over the place. We should drink this. He'd want us to. Am I wrong?"

"It'd be rude not to." Angela agreed.


	24. Time After Time Part 2

Eliot and Dean were in a parked car on the street near the alley where Dean and Chronos appeared in 1944. Chronos sat in a diner with a cup of coffee.

"That's him." Dean nodded.

"Kind of puny for a God," Eliot noted as he drank from a flask. He held it out to Dean, who didn't take it.

"Thought you were, uh—thought you were Mr. Boy Scout," Dean replied.

Eliot chuckled. "Why do you think I went after Capone in the first place? The guy had the best hooch in Chicago."

"So, now, w-who died in your life and made you a hunter?" Dean asked curiously.

Eliot's brows furrowed. "Who died? Nobody died, you morbid son of a bitch. I started doing this 'cause vampires were turning folks in Cleveland."

"And you got the bug," Dean replied.

Eliot nodded. "That's when I got the bug." He replied. "Sometimes you just want to punch through the red tape with a silver bullet. Yeah, hunting sets me free. Isn't that why you hunt?"

Dean shrugged. "I used to do it 'cause that's what my family did."

"Hmm." Eliot hummed.

"But they just seem to keep dying," Dean muttered. "To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm doing much of anything anymore."

"Boo-hoo. Cry me a river, ya nancy." Eliot replied. "Tell me, are all hunters as soft as you in the future? Everybody loses everybody. And then one day, boom. Your number's up, but at least you're making a difference. So enjoy it while it lasts, kid, 'cause hunting's the only clarity you're gonna find in this life. And that makes you luckier than most."

A young woman with long blonde hair left the diner and walked past Eliot's car.

"Hello, nurse," Eliot muttered.

The young woman walked down an alley.

"Hey," Dean said.

Chronos left the diner and followed the young woman. Eliot and Dean got out of the car. Eliot opened the trunk, revealing an arsenal of weapons.

"Sweet merciful awesome," Dean smirked.

Eliot handed Dean a shotgun as Chronos was gaining on the woman. Eliot and Dean ran after them and raised their guns. Chronos grabbed the woman's arm and turned her to face him, kissing her. Dean and Eliot looked at each other in confusion.

~/~\~

"Well, everything's coming up us, kid," Eliot noted.

"Talk to me," Dean replied.

"I am," Eliot replied obviously. "The owner of the house, Miss Lila Tyler, age 20, lives alone. Take the car, head back to Ezra, see what she's got. I'm gonna stay here and keep my peepers on the Sheik and the Sheba."

Dean handed Eliot his rifle, then drove away.

~/~\~

A stake fashioned from a branch was lying on the table.

"That's it?" Dean frowned.

"That is a 1,000-year-old olive carved by vestal virgins and dipped in the blood of—you don't want to know. Pulling this together wasn't easy. You and Ness both owe me, smoothie."

"You can have whatever you want…" Dean picked up the stake. "Soon as we gank this thing."

"Yeah, yeah. Take your twig, wise guy." Ezra replied.

"Well, now, how's it work?" Dean asked.

Ezra walked over to Dean and indicated the pointed end of the stake. "You stick this end in his heart. Miss, he has you for supper. Make sense?"

Dean frowned. "Wait, if I—if I kill Chronos…I'm stuck here."

You just now realized?" Ezra asked, raising a brow. "Oh, come on. 1944 ain't so bad."

"Yeah, I could head over to Europe, punch Hitler in the neck," Dean muttered.

"Oh, there's lots of ways to pass the time, sugar." She put her hands on Dean's lapels and drew him in for a kiss. "That's for luck. 'Cause I'm lucky."

"Thanks," Dean replied, turning away and wiping his lips. He saw three addressed envelopes, picked them up, and smiled. "Back to the Future III." He muttered, turning back to Ezra. "I need to borrow some paper."

~/~\~

Dean drove up and parked outside the house that in the present-day Sam, Angela, and Jody were staying in. Lights were on. Dean chuckled and drummed his hands on the steering wheel.

"Jackpot."

~/~\~

Dean walked up to the front door and knocked. The door opened to reveal an old man.

"Can I help you, son?"

"Yes, sir." Dean nodded. "I am, uh, Special Agent Costner with the, uh…" Dean held out his badge. "Department of Homeland Termite Invasion."

"Termites?" the man frowned.

"Yes, sir. There's been an outbreak all over this area, and I just want to do an inspection, make sure that the, uh, perimeter's secure." Dean explained.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Um, you'd better come in."

"Okay." Dean nodded.

Dean walked up the stairs as the old man looked on. Dean turned on a light and moved the bed away from the wall. He put a pillow on the floor next to the wall and lied down. The man came into the room and frowned.

"Is everything okay up here?"

Dean leaned up on an elbow. "What?! Oh, yeah—no! No, no. Not to worry, because I'm going to install something that will protect this house forever."

The old man nodded and Dean gave him a thumbs-up. The old man left the room, and Dean lied back down. Dean looked up and then to his right, and he saw the bottom of a door frame on the other side of the room. He got up, walked over to the door frame, and took out his knife.

"Yeah," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Jody and Angela walked into the room carrying food and coffee. Sam had his head down on the table.

"You are toast," Jody commented.

Sam raised his head with a start.

"We'll keep pushing, Sammy." Angela smiled softly. "You should get some sleep."

Sam shook his head. "Uh, that's okay. I can, uh…" he took a coffee.

Jody immediately took the coffee back from him. "Do I have to use my mom voice?"

Sam sighed deeply and looked up at Angela with sleepy eyes. "Come with me?" he asked softly.

Angela smiled and nodded. "Of course. You gonna be alright, Jody?"

Jody nodded. "Go, get some sleep. Both of you."

~/~\~

Sam crashed face down on the bedroll, pulling Angela down with him. He spooned her, trying to find a comfortable position on the bedroll. Angela frowned when she noticed something at the base of the door frame.

"Sammy…" She whispered. When she got no response, she turned on the floor lamp and saw _'Sam'_ and _'Angie'_ carved into the base of the door frame. "Sam." Angela shook him awake. "Look!" she pointed.

Sam squinted and saw the carvings. He used his knife to break away the piece of the frame. Behind it was a piece of paper, which he unfolded and read.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela hurried down the stairs. Jody got up from the table.

"Alright," she said. "You asked for it. Young man—

Sam held out the piece of paper. Jody took it and read it aloud.

"Sammy, Angie, turns out Snider is Chronos." She read. "Wait, is this from Dean? How—

"Just read!" Sam and Angela exclaimed.

"I rode him to 1944. Am working with Eliot Ness—yes, that one." Jody continued. "Tracked down Chronos. He's banging some chick named Lila Taylor, and we got a weapon. We're going after him. Take care of yourselves."

"Look at the top." Sam smiled.

"November 5, '44," Jody said.

"So, now we know the exact date Dean had hands-on Chronos," Angela explained. "All we need is the exact time."

"Which we get how?" Jody asked.

"Hoping…" Sam said as he took back the letter. "We ask someone who was there."

~/~\~

In the retirement home, an older woman stood, holding a TV remote. Jody put a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Lila Taylor?" Jody asked gently.

"Oh, can you get the _Sullivan Show_?" Lila asked. "I want to watch that Frankie Valli."

"Um, actually…" Jody held up her badge. "We're with the police."

"Oh." Lila frowned. "Is Michael in trouble again?"

Lila turned and saw Sam and Angela. Lila sat on a couch and the three hunters sat on footrests nearby.

"I told him not to read those comic books," Lila muttered.

"Uh, no, no, no, no, no." Jody shook her head. "He's, uh—he's fine. We'd wanted to ask you some questions about this man." She held up a photo.

"Ethan." Lila murmured. "That's Ethan."

"Do you remember the last time you saw Ethan?" Angela asked softly.

"Of course." Lila nodded. "November 1944—the night the clocks stopped."

"Th-the clocks stopped?" Sam frowned.

"11:34. Every clock in the house." Lila recalled.

"Ma'am, can you tell us anything else you remember?" Sam asked.

"Ethan…said awful things," Lila replied. "And then…and then he strangled that poor man."

"What poor man?" Angela pressed.

"Two policemen came to arrest Ethan."

Sam held up an ID card with a picture of Dean. "Ma'am, was this one of them?"

Lila stared at the photo. "Ethan choked the life out of that man."

~/~\~

Dean walked towards the house carrying a shotgun, then broke into a jog. He stood behind the car parked in front of the house.

"Ness! Ness!" Dean called.

Dean saw the shed with the broken door. He shined a flashlight inside and saw broken glass and splintered wood. Dean walked quietly up the stairs to the house and tried the front door. He put his gun in his coat.

~/~\~

Dean picked the lock and entered Lila's house. He walked into the sitting room and saw light and movement in the gap under a closed door. As he reached for his gun, Chronos tackled him and they crashed to the floor. They got to their feet, and Dean punched Chronos. Chronos punched Dean back, sending him sprawling into a chair.

"Ethan!" Lila exclaimed, causing Chronos to turn.

Eliot held Lila from behind and pointed a gun at her stomach. "Let's talk."

~/~\~

Sam, Jody, and Angela entered the abandoned house and set up items for a spell. Sam took an hourglass out of a paper bag and put it in the bowl.

"Here, break this," Sam instructed.

Jody covered the hourglass with a cloth and smashed it with her gun.

~/~\~

"Please don't hurt her." Chronos pleaded.

"Ethan, what's happening?" Lila's voice wavered nervously.

"Yeah, Ethan." Dean glared. "What the hell?"

"Lila, I'm sorry, but, you just—everything I said to you is true—

"Oh, he might have left out a few details," Dean replied. "He tell you he's a monster who jumps through time?"

"I'm a God!" Chronos shouted at Dean. "Look, I'm not a monster." He told Lila. "Listen. I'm the opposite."

"Well, don't forget to tell her about all the people you murdered along the way, boy scout." Eliot glared.

"What?" Lila frowned.

"It's not like that. I do it for you, Lila." Chronos replied.

"I don't understand." Lila shook her head.

~/~\~

Sam unfolded a piece of paper and set it on the table. Angela emptied ingredients from a plastic bag into the bowl. Sam made a cut on his left palm and wrote '11:34' with his blood on the paper, which he then put in the bowl.

~/~\~

The grandfather clock read 11:32.

"Well, he's not as strong as he used to be," Dean noted. "Isn't that right, Ethan? Now you get to suck people dry. Wild guess—it takes three kills to juice you up."

"Sacrifices." Chronos corrected. "Three sacrifices and I can control when and where I land. But once I get there, it's never for long before I'm tossed through time again. That's my life, Lila. And all I want is to get back here."

"Because you just love the clean Canton air?" Eliot scoffed.

"Because I love her!" Chronos exclaimed. "Because I lived the worst existence you can imagine, and then I found you." He told Lila.

"After you killed Tyler Crosby and Cathy Porter?" Eliot asked. "Lila here was gonna be victim number three. Am I right? Don't act like you never killed a soul before you met her, pal. Something tells me you used to kill three saps just for a change of scenery."

"Yes, I did," Chronos admitted, stepping towards Lila and Eliot.

"Back down," Eliot commanded.

"I-I used to wander, but now I have you."

Lila shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I knew Cathy. She used to come into the diner every day."

Behind Chronos, Dean took something out of his back pocket.

"Lila, please," Chronos begged.

"You are a _monster._ " Lila's voice cracked.

"No, Lila, please!" Chronos begged.

Dean prepared to stab Chronos, but he saw Lila's eyes move to Dean and turned to grapple with Dean. Chronos broke Dean's hold on the stake and it fell to the floor. Eliot shot Chronos twice in the back, but this didn't stop Chronos from gripping Dean by the throat.

~/~\~

"O khrone parakaloumen se thespizein…" Sam chanted.

Jody struck a match and lit the piece of paper with '11:34' written on it.

"Hemin khronon ton mellonta." Sam continued as flame rose from the bowl.

~/~\~

A red light glowed in Chronos's chest. Eliot looked at the stake on the floor.

"No!" Chronos yelled.

Chronos grabbed Dean from behind with an arm around his neck. The clock struck 11:34. Eliot picked up the stake and prepared to throw it to Dean.

"Hey, Untouchable!" Eliot exclaimed.

Eliot threw the stake and Dean caught it. There was an explosion of red and white light.

~/~\~

The room was lit with a red light. There was a crashing sound. Chronos and Dean appeared and fell to the floor. The stake slid across the floor.

"Dean!" Jody exclaimed, running to him as Chronos stood up.

"Hey!" Angela yelled.

Chronos turned towards Angela, blocked her punch, and threw her across the room.

"No!" Chronos shouted. "You! Destroyed everything!"

"Hey, Chronos?!" Sam yelled.

Chronos turned towards Sam and Sam stabbed him in the chest with the stake.

"Was that the best you got?" Sam glared.

Angela pushed herself up and walked over to Sam. Chronos looked up at the couple as he dropped to his knees.

"You want to know your future? I know your future." He smirked. "It's covered in thick black ooze. It's everywhere. _They're everywhere._ " He laughed. "Enjoy oblivion." He added before dying.


	25. The Slice Girls Part 1

Sam and Angela were in the front seat of the car while Dean slept in the backseat. Dean stirred slightly and woke up groggily.

"Morning," Sam commented when he heard movement in the backseat.

"Hey," Dean mumbled groggily. Dean took a flask out of his jacket, shook it, and unscrewed the lid.

Angela turned slightly and her brows furrowed. "Is that Bobby's?" she asked as Dean took a drink.

"I didn't know you kept that," Sam added.

"Yeah," Dean shrugged. "Mine sprung a leak."

Sam scoffed slightly. "You know, most people would just carry a—a photo or something for a memento."

"Shut up, man," Dean replied. "I'm…I'm honoring the guy, alright? This is, uh, grief therapy, kind of like your and Angie's wild-goose chase."

"Wild-goose chase?" Angela asked.

"Yeah." Dean shrugged.

"Four guys murdered in two weeks, hands and feet cut off," Angela said.

"Yeah, well, some guy with a foot fetish run amuck." Dean retorted.

"Grown men thrown so hard they went through walls," Sam added. "Did you—did you even read the article?"

Angela handed a newspaper over to Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, I was napping."

"Well, anyway, what else you got going on?" Sam asked. "Dick Roman's a dead end, for now, you might as well—

"Stay busy." Dean sighed.

"Exactly." Sam nodded.

"Yeah," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

A forensics officer wheeled a man's body out of a locker. Dean, Sam, and Angela were wearing their FBI apparel. The four leaned over the body.

"The latest, but probably not the last." The forensics officer stated. "You guys always work this late?"

"Ugh, hours suck," Dean replied. "But, uh, great benefits package."

The forensic offer's brows went up curiously. "Oh, yeah?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. 10 percent co-pay on all drugs."

"Seriously?"

Dean smiled and nodded.

"Oh, but just generic, right?" the forensics officer asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, no. Name brands are cool."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

Angela cleared her throat. "So," she cut in. "What's our boy here weigh?"

The forensics officer looked at the body. "Uh. A buck ninety. Thrown against a wall so hard it buckled. Based on the blood flow at the crime scene, the hands and feet were cut off while he was still alive, just like the others. The killer wanted him to suffer."

"And all vics are male, right, with the same kind of, uh, artwork as this?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Identical." The forensics officer replied.

Sam took a picture of the design carved on the man's chest with his phone. "So, uh, DNA left at any of the scenes?"

"All of them." The forensics officer confirmed. "One before this, the guy bit the attacker. Still had a chunk of flesh in his teeth when he came in. That's about as good as it gets."

"Right." Dean nodded.

"So, we have a match?" Angela asked.

"We do not." The forensics officer sighed. He hit a button and the keyboard and window that said _'Sample Rejected. No Known Genetic Markers'_ popped up on the screen. "The samples were rejected. The genetic markers don't match anything we've ever seen."

"Didn't match any person in the database?" Dean asked.

"No, I mean they don't match anything _human._ "

Dean's brows furrowed. "Hmm."

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked towards the exit doors of the building. Sam was on the phone.

"I'll admit it could be in the _general vicinity…_ " Dean said as they exited the building. "Of the ballpark of our kind of thing."

"Yeah, uh, 'didn't match anything human' usually seals the deal for me and Angie," Sam replied. "I don't know, I've never seen this symbol before." He added.

Angela touched Dean on the shoulder and he turned to look at her. "Let's grab a bite to eat," she suggested. "Go back to the motel, haul out the laptop."

"That's a great idea." Dean agreed. "Actually, that's a brilliant idea. Here's my counter. You guys do that, I'll go undercover, go mingle amongst the locals and see, uh, what kind of clues bubble to the surface."

Sam snorted slightly. "You're going to a bar."

"Wow," Dean replied. "If you want to oversimplify it." He shrugged before walking off.

Angela looked up at Sam. "You know…it gives us some alone time at the motel…" she hinted, a small smirk playing on her lips.

~/~\~

Dean and Lydia were sitting at a table in the Cobalt Room Bar.

"Uh, dinner and a movie, which sounded fine, except the movie was _'Human Centipede'._ " Lydia sighed.

Dean laughed. "What, so wait, uh, so you had a problem with that?"

"The date from hell." Lydia nodded.

"Dating, right? Ugh." Dean scoffed.

"But what's the option?" Lydia countered. "I don't see settling down anytime soon."

Dean's eyebrows raised. "Well, that's something you don't hear every day."

Lydia laughed. "Oh, what, are you ready for the big commit?"

"Me?" Dean chuckled. "Not exactly."

Lydia looked Dean over. "Nice suit, by the way. Guys don't dress up much. I like it."

"Yeah, well, it's, uh, a conservative line of work," Dean replied, finishing his whiskey.

"What line is that?" Lydia asked as a waitress gave her a new cocktail.

"Investment banking," Dean answered as the waitress gave Dean another whiskey.

"Oh, God," Lydia replied.

"Thanks," Dean said to the waitress.

"I hear the hours are ridic," Lydia added.

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

"But there's money to be made," Lydia smirked.

Dean smirked right back. "I've had a fortunate year."

"Well," Lydia raised her glass in a toast. "May you have many more." She added as they clinked glasses.

"Arigatou," Dean replied.

Lydia's brows raised slightly. "You speak Japanese?"

Dean chuckled. "Ah, enough to get by."

"Well, look at you," Lydia replied, impressed.

"Yeah, look at me," Dean said, looking down at the table, then back at Lydia.

"You want to move this conversation elsewhere?" Lydia smirked seductively.

~/~\~

Dean and Lydia entered her house while kissing passionately. Lydia helped Dean out of his jacket as they continued to kiss. Soon she undid his tie and started unbuttoning Dean's shirt.

Lydia pushed Dean backward, his shirt hanging from his shoulders. She quickly took off her shirt and kissed Dean, who was backed up against the wall. Lydia pushed his shirt from his shoulders and pushed him back through the doors into the bedroom. She quickly shed her pants and Dean pushed his down. Dean fell backward onto the bed with a grunt. Lydia got on top of Dean, interlocked their fingers on one hand, then kissed him. Dean rolled them over.

Lydia rolled herself and Dean over so that she was on top again. She straddled Dean as they continued kissing. Lydia sat back and tossed her hair, then slid her bra straps off her shoulders.

Lydia unhooked and removed her bra. Dean slid his hands up her body and she leaned down to kiss him. She sat up. Dean was still on his back, his eyes closed. He opened them and looked at the ceiling, exhaling audibly.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela made their way across the street.

"Ugh." Dean groaned.

"You look like crap." Sam laughed.

"Yeah, well, I feel worse than I look," Dean replied. "I do recommend the Cobalt Room, by the way. Awesome night. Although I think I'm getting too old for this."

Both Sam and Angela chuckled.

"Did you guys, uh, figure out that symbol?" Dean asked.

"No. We're gonna need an expert," Sam replied.

"Expert?" Dean asked. "Our expert's dead."

"Also, uh, Sam and I _may_ have gotten a little sidetracked last night," Angela admitted.

Dean smirked as the three of them flashed their FBI badges to a police officer.

"Go Sammy." Dean chuckled.

~/~\~

The man's body was on the floor of his apartment. The forensics officer and detective were crouched next to it.

"Come off the wall down here…" the forensics officer explained.

Dean, Sam, and Angela entered and looked around the blood-splattered room.

"Well, nice décor," Dean noted. "Very early slaughterhouse."

The forensics officer looked at the three hunters, then at the detective. "FBI." He clarified as he stood up. "Guys, this is Charlene Penn. She's the lead on the case."

"More of the same." Charlene sighed. "Uh, no forced entry. Thrown across the room. Made to suffer. Both hands and feet cut off."

"Same symbol in the chest," Angela added.

"Mm." the forensics officer hummed. "Whoever the killer is, the guy's a monster."

"Excuse me," Charlene said before walking off.

"This guy's just like the last one," Dean commented. "Early 30s, decent-looking?"

"Yeah. Just like the first three, you know? Fairly successful, no known enemies."

"Hmm." Dean nodded.

"Here," the forensics officer pointed towards the kitchen, Dean following.

Sam and Angela walked to the front door, where a police officer was speaking to a neighbor.

"Excuse us," Sam said to the officer. "We got it." He added.

"How can we help you?" Angela asked the man.

The man shrugged. "I was just trying to find out what happened. Jerry was a friend."

"We're very sorry," Sam replied. "Jerry was killed sometime last night. Do you live nearby?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. Two doors down."

"Is there anyone that would want to harm Jerry?" Angela asked.

"No, he was the nicest guy in the world." The man replied. "Well, his—his wife wasn't real happy with him."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Why's that?"

"A few nights ago, he has a little one-night fling." The man explained. "Ann found out, took off. But…she would never do anything like…"

"Yeah. Of course. Thanks." Sam nodded.

The man left. Dean, Sam, and Angela ducked under a police line.

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"Neighbor," Angela replied. "Said the vic's wife caught him cheating."

"Yeah, but we're not thinking it's the wife," Dean replied.

Sam scoffed. "Not unless she benches 350 and did the other guys as a warm-up."

Dean reached for his flask and frowned. "Shoot. I left Bobby's flask over at Lydia's."

"Lydia?" Sam and Angela asked.

"My workout partner from last night," Dean smirked as he took out his cell phone. "Now I've got to go get it."

Sam smirked teasingly. "So, not only do you know her name, you're actually gonna call her?"

"Bite me." Dean retorted.

"Oh, how sweet—she gave you her number." Angela smiled.

"They always give me her number," Dean replied as he waited for Lydia to pick up.

 _"Hello?"_ Lydia's voice finally rang through.

"Lydia," Dean replied. "Hey, it's, uh, Dean from last night."

_"Uh-huh."_

"Uh, listen, I think I left something over at your place." He said. "It was an old flask. It doesn't look like much, but it has sentimental value. So, uh, have you seen it?"

 _"No,"_ Lydia replied. _"But if I do, I'll call."_

"You want my number?" Dean asked.

 _"My cell grabbed it."_ She replied. _"Uh…Sorry. I gotta go. Just really busy at the moment."_

"Oh." Dean frowned as he heard the dial tone. "She's really busy." He shrugged.

Sam and Angela smiled slightly and walked off.

~/~\~

"Fascinating. Truly." The professor commented. "And actually, rather accomplished draftsmanship."

"Yeah, if you get past the fact that it was carved into a guy's body," Dean replied.

"Professor Morrison, we're hoping you can tell us what the symbol means," Sam said.

"Ah, maybe."

"Maybe?" Angela asked.

"It's possible I could, even likely." The professor responded. "Is the FBI offering suitable remuneration?"

The three hunters looked at each other.

"The respect of a grateful nation," Sam replied.

"And a good word with the IRS," Dean added.

"Ah. Well, it appeared to be quite ancient."

"Well, that narrows it down," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"A corrupted version of symbology associated with worship. Definitely an obscure regional script." The professor explained. "Oh, this will require some research."

The three hunters stood up from their chairs.

"Great," Angela smiled. "We'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" the professor laughed. "I've spent entire sabbaticals on a project like this!"

"Professor!" Dean snapped. "We have a _serial killer_ on our hands."

"Your government needs you, sir," Sam added.

The professor sighed. "My housekeeper needs a green card."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela left the professor's office and walked down the hallway.

"Good God, where'd you two find this guy?" Dean asked.

"He's supposed to be a top expert in his field." Angela sighed.

"Yeah, well, when his field includes things that go bump in the night, he's gonna be worth the breath we just wasted," Dean replied.

"So, what are we supposed to do, Dean?" Sam asked. "Spin our wheels?"

"Sam, this is us spinning our wheels, okay?!" Dean snapped.

Sam and Angela stopped walking and turned to face Dean.

"Dean, you know what?" Sam asked. "We want to call him, too, okay? Believe me. But Bobby's not here. So we're settling."

"Yeah. We sure are." Dean muttered as he checked his phone. "Dammit, why hasn't she called yet?"

Angela's brows furrowed. "Who? Lydia?"

"Wait, so some girl's actually dumping you the morning after?" Sam asked.

Dean scowled at the couple. "I think you two are enjoying this a little more than you need to. Screw it. I'm going over there and getting the flask."

~/~\~

Dean rang Lydia's doorbell and she opened the door.

"Don." She greeted.

"Dean." Dean corrected. "I guess you didn't get my messages."

"No, I did." Lydia sighed. "I've been busy."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Anyway, I, uh, left that flask over here the other night."

"Yes." She forced a smile. "It was so beat up and old, I almost tossed it."

"Yeah, well, guy it belonged to was beat up and old, too," Dean replied. "But, I was very close with him, and I'd, uh, I'd hate to lose it."

"I'll get it for you," Lydia replied.

Dean followed her into the house and shut the door behind himself. "So, how you been? Other than 'busy'?"

Lydia opened a drawer in the main room and took out the flask. A child perhaps a year old was standing up in a crib in the bedroom.

"Just that. Really busy. Here you go." Lydia handed Dean the flask.

Dean's eyes landed on the baby. "Oh, wow. I can see why you're busy. You've been babysitting, huh?"

"No." Lydia pursed her lips.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Yours?"

"Uh-huh."

Dean walked into the bedroom. "You didn't tell me you had a little girl."

Lydia folded her arms across her chest. "There's probably all kinds of things we didn't tell each other."

"What's her name?" Dean asked curiously.

"Emma."

"Hi, Emma." He smiled at the baby. "Your first?"

"Yes." Lydia nodded.

"Well, I hear they grow like weeds." Dean smiled.

"You have no idea," Lydia muttered.

Dean's phone started to ring. "Oh. Sorry. I got to take this." He walked into the main room. "Hello." He answered.

 _"Mm. Hey. Where are you?"_ Sam's voice rang through. _"It's a flask, not the holy grail."_

"Hey, man, I'm a people person, alright?" Dean defended. "I'm engaging in some social skills. You guys get anything out of Morrison?"

 _"No. Not yet."_ Angela's voice rang through. _"Just get back here ASAP. We're due at the crime lab."_

"Mom, get me out!" Emma exclaimed.

"Shh." Lydia hushed. "Just a minute."

 _"Dean?"_ Sam's voice rang through the speaker.

"Hang on," Dean replied, lowering the phone. He stepped closer to the bedroom.

 _"Hey, look, why don't you just…"_ Sam's voice trailed off.

"Who's that guy in the other room?" Emma asked.

 _"You there?"_ Sam asked.

"We'll discuss it later," Lydia assured.

 _"Hello!"_ Sam called out.

Dean held the phone up to his ear. "Let me call you back." He said before hanging up quickly.

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and the forensics officer were standing on either side of the body, which was mostly covered by a sheet.

"So, again, we got a guy weighing about two bills," the forensics officer said. "Thrown into a wall so hard, he's got pieces of plaster lodged in his skull."

"What triggered the Feds' involvement in this case?" Charlene asked curiously. "I always think you have bigger fish to fry."

"No," Sam shook his head. "Actually, we—we—it's—

"I just figured it was the similarity to the cold cases?" the forensics officer shrugged. "If it's the same killer, then he crossed state lines—that would bring you guys in."

"Well, that's exactly right." Angela nodded. "Uh, what he said."

"Yeah. Whatever." Charlene replied. "You're gonna have to wrap this up. Your case isn't the only one we're working on.

Sam and Angela nodded as Charlene left.

"You get used to her." The forensics officer commented.

"Uh, so, Eddie, by the way, we didn't bring the cold-case files with us," Angela said. "Is there a chance you have a copy?"

"Yeah." Eddie shrugged.

"Great." Angela smiled.

Sam picked up a receipt in an evidence bag. "The Cobalt Room."

"Mm! Yeah, it's pretty well known." Eddie replied. "Looking to hook up, it's a pretty good place to go."

"We've heard," Sam muttered.

"Vic number two was there," Eddie added.

Angela took the file that Eddie was holding.

"And according to his security guard, he left with a hot girl." Eddie continued. "Two days later, he's an obituary."

Angela read the file. "Same with Jerry Price."

"Mm-hmm. And, uh, as far as we can tell, at least a couple those in there."

"Same thing in Chicago," Angela muttered.

"Yep." Eddie nodded. "A lot of busted marriages, flings with unknown women, that kind of thing, all just before they got killed."

"Thanks," Angela replied.

~/~\~

Dean was watching from his car. A car containing three women pulled up and parked in front of Lydia's house. The driver remained in the car while the other women walked to the door and ring the bell. Lydia opened the door.

"Is Emma ready?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Come in." Lydia replied.

"Thank you."

Dean's phone rang and he answered it as he watched the scene. "Yeah."

 _"Dude,"_ Sam's voice rang through. _"You never showed."_

"I'm outside Lydia's."

 _"Oh, come on, man."_ Sam groaned. _"What, are you obsessed or something?"_

"No, I'm telling you," Dean replied. "I have been eating at the buffet of strange all afternoon."

 _"Meaning what?"_ Sam asked.

"I'll tell you guys the second I know. But something ain't right."

 _"Or you're obsessed."_ Sam teased.

"Shut up. I'm serious."

Sam sighed. _"Okay, uh, you—you need backup or…_

"No, not yet," Dean replied. "What's up on your end?"

 _"Apparently,"_ Angela's voice rang through. _"There was an identical murder fest two years ago in Chicago, and again in Miami, two years before that. All the victims were young, successful, a lot of them went to the same bar. It lines up. The trails always went cold fast."_

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

 _"Yeah. Oh, and by the way…"_ Sam replied. _"As a personal kicker, here, at least some of the vics hooked up in that bar you went to, the, uh, the Cobalt Room. So, just saying, man, you—you dodged a bullet."_

The door to Lydia's house opened. The woman was leaving the house with someone behind her.

"Got to go." Dean hung up.

Dean watched with binoculars as the two women who called at Lydia's house left with Lydia following them. The second woman was carrying a pink suitcase.

"Emma, hurry up," Lydia called. "Come on, Emma. Time to go!"

A little girl about 5-years-old ran out of the house. Lydia took off her own necklace, kneeled down in front of the girl, and put the necklace around her neck.

"Emma. You be a good girl. Make us proud." Lydia instructed.

"I will, momma," Emma replied before she got into the car.

The car drove away and Lydia went back inside. Dean started his car.

"I hate when this happens," Dean muttered.

Dean followed the car to an alleyway. The two women and Emma got out and entered a building. Emma's door was opened by a third woman who was presumably waiting for them. The car drove off.

~/~\~

"So, what?" Sam asked as he, Angela, and Dean walked into the motel room. "I mean, so maybe she has another kid she didn't tell you about."

"Nope, just the one. Emma." Dean replied. "But that night, when I was with her, she didn't have any. And I was at her place, man. There were no playpens, no blankets, no rubber ducks."

"Right," Sam replied. "Like you would have been focused on that kind of thing."

"Hey, dude, that's the _first_ thing you notice. Red flags." Dean shrugged.

Sam scoffed as he sat down at the table. Angela sat on his lap and leaned against him slightly. Dean took three beers out of the fridge.

"Then, all of a sudden, boom—baby," Dean said.

"Yeah, the one you thought talked." Angela retorted as Sam opened the laptop.

"Oh, it talked. And not baby talk, either." Dean replied, handing the couple their beers.

"Now you know so much about child development?" Sam smirked.

"I know enough to know that they don't say, 'Hey, Mom. Who's that guy?'. So, cut to…" Dean closed the laptop and sat across from Sam and Angela. "Lydia's handing this kid who's calling her mommy over to these two women, right? But this is not a baby. No, no, this kid's got to be five. And same name—Emma."

"You know, George Foreman named all his sons George," Sam replied, causing Angela to chuckle.

Dean pursed his lips. "Are you deliberately messing with me?"

Sam shrugged with an upside-down smile playing on his lips.

"Dude, I know weird. Okay?" Dean replied. "There is no non-weird explanation for this. This morning, Emma was a baby. By sunset, she's _Hannah Montana_. Early years."

"How do you know who _Hannah Montana_ is?" Angela's brows furrowed slightly.

Dean opened up his mouth to say something, but Sam's phone started to ring.

"It's the professor," Sam said.

"Oh. Good." Dean muttered sarcastically. "The professor. Yeah, I'm sure he'll crack this wide open."

"Shh!" Sam hushed.


	26. The Slice Girls Part 2

The professor stood at the front of the room next to a projector screen that showed the symbol carved into the mens' chests. Sam, Dean, and Angela sat in the chairs, listening to the professor.

"You know, identifying the scroll was no day at the beach. Lesser scholars would have crumbled."

"Professor…the symbol?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Yeah. It's ancient, regional." The professor replied. "Very difficult to identify. But I managed to find a match."

The picture on the screen changed to one of an ancient Greek building.

"It's a variation of a symbol associated with the Greek Pantheon." The professor explained. "The temple of the goddess Harmonia. According to myth, the coupling of Harmonia and Ares, the God of war, produced the Amazons."

"The Amazons?" Angela asked.

"Like _Wonder Woman_?" Dean added.

"No, like—like a tribe of warriors." The professor replied. "They actually existed. The comic books—they're just silly perversions. The symbol—I believe it originated with the Amazons. Pictographs meant to pay homage to Harmonia—occult talismans if you will. They had an exclusively female culture. No use for men whatsoever, except procreation."

"All the vics were male," Sam noted.

"So you said—with this symbol carved into their chests." The professor showed a slide with the symbol.

"And their hands and feet cut off," Angela added.

"Now, that's interesting."

"Caught our attention." Dean agreed.

"After they were impregnated, they killed the male—first cutting off certain body parts." The professor explained.

~/~\~

Dean was looking through boxes of books. "I know Bobby's got a Grecian encyclopedia of weird in here. I saw it the last time I was looking through this stupid…Would it kill him to have a system?"

Sam and Angela were at the table using the laptop and drinking coffee.

"He has a system." Sam shrugged. "His files are set up like his brain."

Dean took out his flask and drank from it. "You guys got anything?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam replied. "There's this whole crazy side to Amazon lore that Professor Morrison didn't even mention."

"That's 'cause he doesn't believe in it, which is a real handicap when you're trying to deal with it." Dean sighed as he sat on the bed and opened the book he was holding.

Sam paused. "Right. Um, apparently, there was this long, bloody war. The Amazon population was decimated, so they made a bargain with Harmonia to replenish their ranks and make them stronger."

"Well, I'd say throwing grown men through walls was stronger."

"Yeah." Angela agreed. "Well, basically, they became more than human. Harmonia turned them into monsters."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Can you kill them like humans? Or is there some kind of trick?"

"Uh, doesn't say." Angela sighed. "No idea. I guess it could go either way."

"Well, that's helpful." Dean rolled his eyes. "What else?"

"The lore says they reproduced quickly—as in, after mating, they gave birth within 36 hours," Sam noted.

Dean stopped turning the pages of the book and listened intently.

"The babies grew incredibly fast, then the aging process became normal," Sam added. "Which is one way to make an army, I guess. The mating cycle is every two years. They send out all the women who have reached child-bearing age."

"Which lines up, 'cause this happens every couple of years in different towns, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. And we know for sure that at least some of the vics hooked up with strange women days before being killed Amazon style." Angela replied.

Dean closed his book and set it down. "Hooked up in the same bar I met Lydia, right?"

"Yeah." Sam shrugged.

"And then suddenly…" Dean got up and walked towards the couple. "She's got a little baby in like fruit-fly time. That baby turns into a little girl just as fast."

"Wow," Angela replied. "So maybe you're—you're, uh…"

"Don't say it." Dean cut her off.

Angela sighed. "Look, if that kid's yours—

"I said don't say it!" Dean exclaimed.

"Fine." Sam cut in. "We won't. But, Dean…Dude, seriously, a one-night stand, you're just gonna…roll the dice? You don't even—

"Of course not…" Dean replied. "What, do you think I'm brain dead? Accidents happen. If one even did, which I-I-I don't think…" Dean paused and considered what happened. He smiled a small smile. "No. You know what? We're—stop. We're not gonna talk about this anymore because my skin's starting to crawl!"

"Alright, fine," Angela replied. "But if it's true, if it happened…"

"I know." Dean sighed. "I got to hang on to my hands and feet." Dean took another drink from his flask.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were standing next to a bed covered with research.

"Looking through Bobby's files is like dumpster diving," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam replied. "So, it makes sense why, uh, why…the Amazons all want to hook up with decent-looking, successful guys."

"Oh, they're picky about the gene pool?" Dean scoffed.

Angela pinned a newspaper article to a wall alongside other research. "Right, so…" she turned to face Dean. "What as Lydia doing with you?"

"Well, she may or may not have thought I was a rich investment banker," Dean muttered.

Dean took a drink from his flask. Angela sighed and Sam spread his arms in mild exasperation. Dean looked down at the research on the bed. The pictures of the Greek building and Amazon woman have moved, and the only thing now on top of the leather-bound book was a piece of parchment with writing.

"Guys." Dean frowned.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"These papers just moved," Dean noted.

"What?" Angela frowned.

"I didn't touch them." Dean shrugged.

Sam got out the EMF reader, which immediately started to flash red and make noise. "It's all over the place." He muttered as he walked over to the bed. "Redline. Redline." He walked towards the window. "Oh, and…power lines by the _open window_ , where there's a _breeze…_ " he turned off the EMF reader. "That could have moved the papers."

"Did either of you feel a breeze?" Dean asked.

"It doesn't matter, Dean." Angela sighed. "The readings are useless."

"Hey. Maybe, uh…" Dean held up the flask.

Sam clenched his jaw. "We burned him, Dean."

"So, what?" Dean shrugged.

"So, what are you suggesting?" Angela asked.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "What are you?"

Sam shook his head. "Concentrate on something else."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because it's not Bobby!" Sam snapped.

"Could be," Dean muttered.

"No, it couldn't be." Sam clenched his jaw.

"Why not?"

"Because we want it to be!" Sam yelled, snatching the parchment from the bed.

"Maybe it's useful," Dean suggested.

"It's in a pile of 'maybe it's useful'." Sam retorted. "Besides, it's in Greek. Nobody reads Greek."

"Yeah, except for Greeks, babe," Angela replied.

"Oh, and Bobby," Dean muttered.

Sam squinted. "And Professor Morrison."

"Really?" Dean scoffed.

"Angie and I are going, Dean," Sam replied. "You stay here, keep the door locked. Don't go anywhere. I mean it."

"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam and Angela quickly left the room.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela entered Professor Morrison's office. The professor looked up and groaned.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding! I have officer hours tomorrow—

"I'm sorry, professor. We need your help." Sam interrupted. Sam set the parchment down in front of the professor.

"The FBI isn't paying me enough for this." He muttered as he picked up the parchment.

Angela folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. "Alright. We'll sweeten the deal. We'll remove your wiretap."

The professor looked up in alarm.

~/~\~

Dean was using the laptop when someone knocked on the door. Dean closed the laptop and picked up his gun. There was more knocking. After a moment of indecision, Dean removed the safety chain and opened the door to reveal Emma.

"Hi," Emma greeted. "You don't know me, but my name is Emma. I need your help. I think I'm in trouble, and you're the only person I can trust."

Dean frowned slightly. "Why?"

Emma looked at him tearfully. "Because you're my father."

~/~\~

"How'd you find me?" Dean asked.

"They've been watching you, ever since Mom got pregnant," Emma replied.

"Well, if you're such a prisoner, you mind telling me how you escaped?" Dean questioned.

"I waited until lights out. The women who watch over us change shifts a little after 10:00."

"Uh-huh." Dean nodded. "And you left because…?"

"They stick you in there, and you trust them. It's all you know. And you don't question what they want you to do—terrible things. That's why I had to leave. They tortured me." Emma held up her branded wrist. "They told me I had to endure pain so I could be strong like them. But I don't want to be like them!"

"Okay," Dean sighed. "Come in."

Emma entered the room. Dean closed the door, replaced the security chain, and put his gun in the back of his jeans.

"Have a seat." He instructed. Emma sat down on the bed. "Okay. Let's assume that you're not…like them. Yet." Dean leaned against the table. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get me away from here," Emma replied. "You're a good man. My mother told me that."

Dean scoffed slightly. "I seriously doubt she said that. And if you knew me, you would seriously doubt it's true."

"They told me you're a hunter," Emma replied. "So, maybe you'll understand about me. Maybe you can protect me. Just long enough so I can get away. Then I'll leave you alone. I know you don't want me…"

"Alright, let's not…go there, okay? This isn't a matter of…" Dean gestured between them. "You get this isn't a normal situation, right?"

"How would I know?" Emma retorted. "Three days ago, I wasn't even alive! Now here I am. My mother threw me into that place. And my father…well…you get this is my last chance to have anything normal ever, right?"

~/~\~

The professor was reading the parchment while Sam and Angela sat across from him.

"It's fascinating."

"What's it say?" Angela asked.

"Oh, I haven't gotten there yet." The professor replied. "The paper is handmade. A cellulose, rather like papyrus, which would explain its durability."

Sam sighed. "Professor—

"Wherever did you get it?" the professor asked.

"Uh…a—a crazy, drunk, old genius." Sam shrugged.

"Yeah," the professor chuckled. "They always have the good stuff. Well, it's in Greek."

"Yeah, yeah, w-we know that," Angela replied.

"Not a common dialect. My God, what is it with you and Amazons?"

"Professor, it's important." Sam sighed.

"At 11:30 at night, it better be." He muttered. "Oh, here's a new twist. It repeats the conventional lore. Amazon warrior mates with males. The males are murdered. Yada, yadda. But according to this…It's not the women who do the killing. Instead, a ritual of initiation requires that the child born of the mating process must kill her own father."

Sam frowned deeply. "What?"

~/~\~

Dean stood near the window. He walked across the room in front of Emma. "You look exhausted."

"And starving," Emma replied. "It's been a tough sweet 16. So, you believe me?"

Dean crossed his arms and nodded.

"You'll help me?" she asked.

"If you really want help," Dean replied.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were walking quickly. Sam was looking at his phone. Charlene suddenly stepped out in front of them, startling the couple.

"Detective." Angela greeted.

"Agents," Charlene replied. "You're here late."

"Yeah. Listen, could we talk in the morning?" Sam asked as he and Angela started to walk past Charlene.

Charlene grabbed both Sam and Angela's arms. "What's your hurry…"

Sam and Angela noticed the branding on Charlene's wrist.

"Sam? Angela?" Charlene smirked. "Let's see. I could run you in for impersonating federal agents…"

The skin around her eyes turned red. She grabbed Sam and hurled him down a short flight of stairs and into the exit doors. Angela went to fight back, but Charlene grabbed her and hurled her as well. Charlene raised a knife she had been hiding, but Angela turned over and shot Charlene in the chest. She got up and helped Sam up. Sam picked up his phone from the stairs. The screen was smashed.

~/~\~

Dean stood still in front of Emma with his arms crossed. "Well, now, what happens when they find out you're missing?"

"They may have already found out," Emma replied. "And they'll hunt me down."

Dean nodded and walked across the room.

"Look, I know this is gonna be hard," Emma continued. "But if I'm gonna get out, I have to do it now."

Dean opened the fridge. "We got cheese and a leftover burrito."

Emma stood up. "Doesn't make a difference."

A knife dropped into her hand from her sleeve. Dean closed the fridge and pointed his gun at Emma.

"I was told you'd be a challenge," Emma noted.

"I figured you'd chat me up…try and catch me off guard," Dean replied. "Almost worked. I was expecting your mother."

"It's not her place." Emma sneered. "I have to kill you."

"Is that what they told you?" Dean asked.

Emma shrugged. "It's what I am."

"Well, then, I should just kill you right now," Dean replied.

"Sure." Emma nodded. "But you could have done that 30 seconds ago." She added. "It's weirdly hard, isn't it? It is for me."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Knock it off."

"How could it not be?" she continued. "You're my father."

"Hey!" Dean snapped. "We're not gonna do that."

"But it's true," Emma replied. "You're the reason that we're standing here. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. So, now someone has to kill someone. You know what? So far, my childhood's been kind of disappointing."

"You haven't killed anybody yet, Emma." Dean murmured. "Walk away. Right now. I won't go after you."

"I can't." Emma glared. "I don't have a choice."

Sam and Angela burst into the room, their guns drawn. Emma spun around to face them, the skin around her eyes red. She turned back to Dean, her eyes normal.

"Please don't let them hurt me," Emma begged, tears in her eyes.

Emma turned back to Sam and Angela. Sam shot her in the chest and she gasped, falling to the ground. Sam lowered his gun. The three hunters looked at each other. Dean nodded slightly and looked down.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela drove up to the Amazon building and got out of the car. They walked up to the front door, which was ajar. Dean pushed the door the rest of the way open.

"Here's the mothership," Dean muttered.

Sam cocked his gun. "Let's get this done."

Sam and Angela followed Dean into the building, but it was deserted.

"They're gone." Angela frowned.

~/~\~

Sam drove with a fixed expression on his face. Angela sat in between the brothers, rubbing circles on Sam's free hand with her thumb.

"Hey, you know what?" Dean spoke up. "I don't like it either. I wanted to torch 'em just as much as you guys. Yeah, but, hey…next time they surface, we'll be ready. If we live that long."

Sam didn't reply.

"Alright, fine," Dean muttered. "Just sit there and be pissed."

"What did you say to me…when I was the one who choked?" Sam spoke up. "What did you say about Amy? 'You kill the monster'!"

"I was going to!" Dean assured.

"Oh, the hell you were!" Sam snapped. "You think I'm an idiot?"

"What, you think I am?!" Dean snapped.

"Dean, you were gonna let her walk." Angela sighed.

"No, I wasn't. That's ridiculous!" Dean scoffed.

Sam sighed. "Look, man, she was not yours. Not really."

"Actually, she, uh, she was, really," Dean replied. "She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But, uh, hey."

"You know what?" Sam asked. "Bobby was right. Your head's not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now…"

"Now what? Oh, what, you're dealing with it so perfect?" Dean retorted. "Yeah, news flash, pal—you're just as screwed up as I am! You're just… _bigger._ "

Sam's brows furrowed. "What?!"

"I don't know." Dean sighed.

"Look…I think what Sam's trying to say is…tonight, it almost got you killed." Angela cut in. "Deal with it however you want. But just— _don't get killed._ "

"I'll do what I can," Dean replied.

"Well, what's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"It means I'll do what I can. Alright? You can shut up about it."


	27. Plucky Pennywhistle's Part 1

Sam and Angela leaned against a Jeep, reading a newspaper. The phone in a nearby phone booth started to ring, and Dean quickly answered it.

"Hello?" Dean answered. He sighed. "I am the Eggman."

Sam smiled briefly and Angela giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, Frank, pay phones?" Dean asked. "I mean, come on. I—I'm getting the clap off this thing just touching it." He added. "Fred Savage? Really? Yeah, no, I know, big mouths are everywhere." Dean sighed. "Uh, well, since you asked, some actual intel on the Dick Roman guy would be nice. Fine. Alright. Yeah, good looking out."

The phone clicked as Frank ended the call. Dean hung up, scowled at his hand, and walked over to Sam and Angela.

"I hope he finds something quick," Dean commented. "This whole protocol du jour thing's really creeping my cheese."

"So, we got dick on Dick?" Sam asked.

Dean paused. "That's a vivid way of putting it." He replied. "You guys find anything on _Wonder Woman_?"

"No," Angela shook her head. "And there probably won't be. They are definitely gone."

"But…" Sam held up the newspaper. "We might have found something over in Kansas."

"Alright, well, let's do it." Dean sighed. "But, uh, a few simple rules, okay? No babies."

Sam and Angela smiled.

"In fact, no baby mamas." Dean continued. "No bars. No booze—no hot chicks of any kind."

Angela raised a brow. "Excuse me, what are you trying to say?"

Dean paused for a moment. "I—I, uh…"

Angela threw her head back in laughter. "I'm just screwing with you, Dean."

Sam chuckled and looked at Dean. "Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say—

"Hey," Dean pointed at him. "You spawn a monster baby, see how quick you want to dive back in the pool."

~/~\~

The doctor pulled back a sheet from the body of a middle-aged man. The body was covered in circular raised sores of various sizes. Dean, Sam, and Angela were in their FBI apparel.

"Ohh. Those are not the fun kind of hickeys." Dean muttered.

"You're…you're saying an octopus did this?" Angela frowned.

"Not just any octopus," the doctor replied. "Based on welt diameter, enteroctopus dofleini."

"And for those of us who skipped the enteroctopus class?" Dean asked.

"Giant Pacific octopus."

Dean frowned. "How giant we talking, Doc?"

"Approximately 30 feet." The doctor replied.

Sam laughed briefly. "I mean, aren't…giant octopi rare around here?"

"Yet here we are." The doctor replied.

"Alright, so what happens?" Dean asked. "Guy comes home, cracks a beer, and gets…suckered to death?"

"Obviously, this was some kind of freak fetish attack." The doctor explained. "Someone created those hickey marks, then bled the man out." He added, turning the head to expose a wound on the side of his throat.

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked through the hallways.

"That bite look a little vamp-y to you guys?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, no question." Angela nodded.

"So, what are we looking for? An octovamp? A vamptopus?" Dean frowned.

"That's crazy even for us, right?" Sam replied.

Dean nodded. "It does push the envelope. Let's go chat up the widow."

~/~\~

"We're very sorry for your loss, ma'am." Sam consoled.

"Mrs. Harper, we know this is, uh, bad timing," Dean started. "But we just have a few routine questions that we need to ask you—is that okay?"

Mrs. Harper, Sam, Angela, and Dean were seated around a coffee table. Mrs. Harper was holding a Kleenex and the three hunters each had a cup of coffee.

"Yeah." Mrs. Harper nodded.

"Did the house feel any different lately?" Angela asked.

The woman's brows furrowed. "Different…?"

"Anything strange," Dean added. "Cold spots. Uh, did you smell anything weird? Maybe sulfury?"

Mrs. Harper shook her head. "No. Not that I can remember."

"Okay, we're just ticking all the boxes here," Dean replied. "Um, what about any skeletons in your husband's closet?"

"Skeletons? What do you mean?" Mrs. Harper asked.

"Can you think of anybody who would want to do him harm?" Angela asked. "A colleague, an old flame."

Mrs. Harper looked down for a moment.

"The tiniest detail could really help." Sam pressed lightly.

"You want to know what he was up to lately?" Mrs. Harper asked. "Ask Stacey. She was here the night he died."

"Um…Stacey?" Sam asked.

"Our nanny. Any other questions?"

"No, that's…Thank you," Dean replied. "You've been a big help."

Dean, Sam, and Angela got up.

"Really appreciate the hospitality, ma'am," Sam added before they left.

~/~\~

"Mom, dad, nanny—boy, that is a love triangle right out of _Casa Erotica,_ " Dean noted. "'Course, in those, the jealous wife tends to channel her feelings more productively."

Angela shook her head. "The only thing I can't wrap my mind around is—

"What, how wife lady summoned an octovamp?" Dean asked.

"More like, 'why'?" Angela replied. "I mean, kind of impractical, right?"

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "Alright, one of us needs to go talk to the naughty nanny." He walked around to the driver's side. "The other needs to stay here, shake down the place when the wife leaves—see what we're dealing with."

"Alright," Sam nodded. "Angie and I are on the nanny."

"I'm on the nanny," Dean argued.

Sam snorted. "I thought you said no hot chicks."

"We don't know that she's hot," Dean replied.

Sam gave Dean a look and walked off with Angela.

~/~\~

"Now, uh, how would you describe your relationship with the deceased?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Normal, I guess." Stacey shrugged.

"Normal?" Dean asked.

"Well, I mostly dealt with Debra." She replied. "There was nothing going on if that's what you mean."

Dean nodded. "Debra said that you were at the house late the night that, uh, Brian died."

"Yeah," Stacey replied. "Brian was working late, so I stayed with Kelly. She was pretty upset."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Why's that?"

"Well, it was her birthday," Stacey replied. "We had a party at Plucky's."

"Plucky's," Dean muttered. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Stacey smiled. "Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie?" she raised a brow. "Pizza chain for kids. Actually, more for lazy parents. Anyway, her dad showed up for five minutes, then went back to work. And, of course, her mom was out of town. This stupid kid told Kelly her folks didn't really love her. She freaked. I was calming her down for hours."

"Uh, did you…notice anything weird at the house?" Dean asked.

"Weird like…?"

"Anything." Dean shrugged. "Even a bad feeling."

"No, nothing like that." Stacey shook her head. "Actually, Kelly does have a weird thing about closets. But it's just kid stuff."

"Try me." Dean pressed.

"She thinks there's a monster in her closet. It drives everyone crazy."

~/~\~

Dean was on the phone as he walked to the car. "Hey, we talked to the wrong person."

 _"What?"_ Sam's voice rang through.

"Yeah, forget the mom," Dean replied. "Talk to the daughter. She's mad at her dad for ditching her birthday."

 _"So, what do you think?"_ Sam asked. _"A birthday wish gone wrong, something like that?"_

"I don't know. It could be." Dean sighed.

_"We got a 20 on her right now."_

"Can you get to her without tripping the AMBER alert?" Dean asked.

 _"We'll try,"_ Sam assured.

"Alright, see what you can find," Dean said as he got into the car.

~/~\~

Kelly was drawing what appeared to be an octopus on the footpath outside the house.

"Whatcha working on there?" Sam asked as he and Angela walked up.

Kelly looked up at them. "I know who you are."

"You do?" Sam asked.

"Mm-hmm. You talked to my mom." Kelly replied.

"That's right. We did." Sam nodded.

"Kelly!" Mrs. Harper yelled from inside the house. "Where are you, honey?"

Kelly looked around nervously.

"Something wrong?" Angela asked gently.

"My mom will get mad if I talk to you," Kelly admitted.

Angela crouched down in front of Kelly. "How come, sweetie?"

"Because of what I told the police."

"And what did you tell the police?" Angela asked.

Kelly bit her lip. "I told them that I tried to warn my dad. That the monster would get him."

Mrs. Harper opened the front door. "Kelly. Come here! Now! Kelly!"

Kelly ran into the house. Mrs. Harper looked at the two hunters unsmilingly and closed the door. Sam and Angela looked at the picture Kelly drew: an octopus with sharp teeth and an unfriendly expression.

~/~\~

Dean, wearing his FBI suit, examined the hole made in the fence by the unicorn's horn. An ambulance and a CSI officer were at the scene.

"Huh," Dean muttered. "Hey. Um…Okay," Dean said to the police officer. "So, the horse I get. The hoofprints, the jumping over the fence. But, uh, what ran him through?"

"Best thing I could tell you is something big."

"So, what, like a lance?" Dean asked.

The police officer shrugged. The deceased man's body, covered with a sheet, was rolled towards the ambulance on a stretcher. A woman was standing next to the ambulance.

"It's sad," the officer said. "Lady's got to pull her friggin' 8-year-old out of school and tell him his dad's dead."

"Excuse me," Dean replied, walking towards the woman. He flashed his FBI badge. "Excuse me, ma'am? Agent Jones, FBI."

"I'm sorry." The woman replied. "I—I really need to go."

"Okay," Dean nodded. "Uh, just one quick question, if you don't mind. Um, was yesterday your son's birthday?"

The woman's brows furrowed. "Billy's birthday? No. Why would you ask that?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Dean sighed.

"Oh. But…his father did take him to a friend's birthday party yesterday." The woman recalled, tearing up.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were in the motel room when Sam's phone started to ring. He grabbed it and put it on speaker.

"Hey," Sam greeted.

 _"Hey,"_ Dean replied. _"Do either of you remember a chain called Plucky Pennywhistle's?"_

Sam paused for a moment. "No."

 _"Really?"_ Dean scoffed. _"Could have sworn you loved those places."_

"No, dude, I _hated_ them," Sam replied. "Uh, you would dump me and go trolling for chicks."

 _"It's not like I left you in jail."_ Dean defended. _"I mean, those places are supposed to be fun."_

"Fun?" Sam asked. "Uh, they're _lame._ And they smell like puke. And the ice cream is all grainy."

 _"Alright, don't have one of your episodes, okay?"_ Dean retorted. _"I'm just saying I hit a dead end with this whole wishes-gone-wild thing, but both kids were at Plucky's day of. Look, why don't you and Angie go check out the local Plucky's and ask about this Billy kid?"_

Sam swallowed nervously. "Look, man, w-why don't we just…why don't we just wait for you to get back?"

 _"No can do, Hermano,"_ Dean replied. _"I'm on my way to talk to little Billy."_

"Why—why—why don't Angie and I talk to Billy right now?" Sam stammered.

Dean chuckled. _"Wait, wait, wait. This isn't about your, uh, your clown thing, is it?"_

Sam froze. "What?!" his voice went up an octave. "No!"

 _"Sammy?"_ Dean asked.

"No," Sam assured.

 _"Yeah,"_ Dean chuckled. _"What in the world did they do to you? Alright, you know what? Never mind. Just know that 99.99% of all clowns can't hurt you. Okay? And if it bleeds…you can kill it."_ Dean added before he hung up.

Sam pursed his lips. "If it bleeds, you can kill it." He whispered to himself.

Angela looked up at Sam, her brows furrowed slightly. "You never told me that you were scared of clowns."

Sam looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I'm a _hunter._ I've seen a lot worse than clowns, Angie. It's not exactly rational."

Angela shrugged and took his hands in hers. "So?" she replied. "I'm scared of spiders. Have been since I was a little girl."

Sam's brows furrowed, and he looked at her. "W-what about that Arachne case we worked?"

"It freaked me out," Angela admitted. "But, it was another monster. Something about regular spiders…just scares the _hell_ out of me." She shuddered. "They don't even have to be that big to freak me out. I can't stand 'em."

Sam smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Well, I'll kill all the spiders from now on."

"And I'll kill any evil clowns for you, Sammy," Angela smiled, hugging his waist.

~/~\~

A sign on the building read _'Where all your dreams are good!'_. Sam and Angela were sitting in the jeep.

"I'm too old for this," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela entered Plucky's and looked around. A recorded message said _'Welcome to Plucky Pennywhistles! Have fun!'_. Sam flinched at a large picture of a clown and exhaled sharply. Angela squeezed his hand lightly. They walked to the ticket counter, which was manned by a staff member named Howard. They passed a mechanical clown. Sam eyed it several times.

"Welcome to Plucky's, where all your dreams are good." Howard grinned.

Sam swallowed nervously. "Could you just, uh, maybe…" Sam said as he and Angela flashed their badges. "Just get the manager for us?"

Howard nodded and walked off.

"Okay." Sam breathed.

Sam and Angela walked further into the room, past the mechanical clown and a clown-shaped sign that said _'You must be THIS TALL to play here'._ Sam appeared to be very uncomfortable. He looked up at a large clown head mounted on a pillar and blinked. A person in a lion costume posed for a photo. Libby crouched down next to her son who was seated at a small table.

"I just need you to stay sane for three more hours." Libby pleaded. "Okay? Here. Finish your homework."

"Like I can concentrate in here!" the boy complained as his mom walked away.

Libby paused but didn't turn around.

Sam and Angela looked at a wall hung with paper placements that said _'Draw your worst fear…Plucky will make your fear disappear'._ A name tag on the wall read _'Kelly Harper'._

"Draw your worst fear?" Angela read aloud as Jean walked up.

"I know," Jean said suddenly. "But we don't post the truly evil stuff—just the standard crap like sharks and ghosts." She explained. "Jean Holiday, shift manager." She introduced.

"Johnson and Blake, FBI," Sam replied. "So, tell us—why even ask the kids to draw creepy stuff, to begin with?"

"It's just an exercise…some pop psychologist came up with." Jean shrugged. "Plus, the owner's obsessed with 'aiding children's development'. So, the placemat is a safe way to get kids to talk about their fears. You know, we get them to sketch it in a little box, and—voila!—Plucky magically transforms it into rainbows and candy." She explained. "Personally, I think it's a load of hooey, but they say that if these fears run wild, then it affects kids long into their adulthood."

A laughing clown walked between Sam, Angela, and Jean, and got very close to Sam's face. Sam leaned back uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I've—I've—I've heard that." Sam stammered. "Um…so, I—I don't know if you'll remember, but there was a—a kid in here yesterday named Billy Pogue for a party?"

Jean nodded. "Oh, the conniption kid."

"Conniption?" Angela frowned. "He—he had—

"No, no, no, not him," Jean replied quickly. "He was fine. It was his dad. He pulls the kid away before cake and presents, and I guess the kid asked to stay for another five minutes. The dad pulls a full-frontal douchebag, starts screaming. Just embarrassed for the kid." She added before walking away.

Sam made a call on his phone. As he was waiting for it to be answered, a janitor whistled at him and Angela to get their attention.

"Hey," he whistled. "Hey."

The man looked around to see who was watching. Sam pushed a button to end the call and the couple walked over to the janitor.

"You two cops?" the janitor asked.

"Uh, yeah." Angela nodded. "We're feds."

"Uh, what are you investigating?"

"Couple of crazy deaths." Sam shrugged. "Why, is there something you want to share?"

"Look—not now. Too many eyes. Come back after closing."

~/~\~

Dean was taking food in paper boxes out of a bag. Sam and Angela entered hand in hand.

"Hey," Dean greeted. "So, what's the lowdown with trauma town?"

Sam made a face and Dean smiled.

"I can tell you this much," Sam started. "Neither vic was up for parent of the year."

"Kelly's dad skipped her birthday, and Billy's dad pulled one of those Dick Parent scenes that makes everyone cringe," Angela added, setting down some of the placemats in front of Dean.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What the hell are these?"

"Kid therapy," Sam replied. "Um, you draw your worst nightmare—poof!—Plucky fixes it. Um, they hang them up on this big wall."

"Well, can't argue with this," Dean muttered. "Leprechauns are deadly."

Angela chuckled and Sam snorted slightly.

"Okay, so, Kelly draws a monster, and then that goes after her father?" Dean asked. "That's what we're saying?"

"Well, here's the thing," Angela sighed. "They label those. And guess which two were missing. Well, name tag was there—no place-mat."

"Little Miss Octovamp," Dean replied.

"Yeah. And…Billy." Sam replied. "So…somehow, whatever he drew came to life and killed his dad, riding a horse." He added as he poked at his food with chopsticks.

"Close, but no Seabiscuit," Dean replied. "See, I went and had a little chat with Billy. And he drew me this."

Dean unfolded a piece of paper that had a drawing of a unicorn with a rainbow-colored tail. A person was impaled on the unicorn's horn.

"Wait," Angela frowned. "So now unicorns are evil?"

"Yeah. Obviously." Dean scoffed.

"Great," Sam sighed. "Well, now the question is, how did a unicorn come off a sketch and kill Billy's dad? How's any of this happening?"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela wearing casual clothes arrived in the car Dean had been driving. Two police cars and an ambulance were outside the building. EMTs wheeled the janitor's body, covered with a sheet, out of the building on a stretcher. Dean held up his FBI badge.

"Hold on one second there, guys," Dean said.

Sam and Angela were talking to Jean as Dean looked under the sheet. The couple walked over to Dean after the finished talking with Jean.

"So?" Dean asked.

"The manager found the body in the ball pit. Blood everywhere." Angela sighed.

"Cops have a theory?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, they think the ball washer did it." Sam sighed.

"The what?" Dean asked.

"The…ball washer." Sam shrugged.

Dean smiled. "The what?"

"The ball—

Sam held up his hands in frustration.

"Look at this," Dean said, lifting the sheet covering the body. Sam and Angela raised their brows. "Thank you, gentlemen," Dean said to the EMTs as they took the body away. "That's a shark bite."

"Yeah." Sam and Angela replied.

"And, uh, judging from the radius, I'd say a 20-footer, at least," Dean replied.

Angela tilted her head and Sam looked skeptical.

" _Shark Week_ , guys," Dean muttered. "How do you not watch that?"

"See, uh, I actually have a girlfriend." Sam grinned before he and Angela walked away.

"Whole week of sharks," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela looked at the wall of placemats, using flashlights. Sam removed a name tag from the wall.

"Omar Cooper." Sam read. "How much you want to bet little Omar here was scared of sharks?"

"Saul the janitor is connected how?" Dean asked. "I mean, he's not related to Omar."

"No," Angela replied. "But Saul had something he wanted to tell us."

"So, this isn't about ganking some dickweed parent," Dean noted.

"More like, uh, silencing a whistle-blower?" Sam suggested.

"Great, so whatever we're looking for can literally fire off childhood fears at will." Dean sighed. "Wow. Watch out for evil lunch ladies."

Sam was holding an EMF reader. "Alright. Let's comb this place." He said before he walked off with Angela.

Dean took an EMF reader out of his jacket pocket. "Seriously. Dractopus. Seabiscuit the Impaler. Land shark—what's next?"


	28. Plucky Pennywhistle's Part 2

Dean was turning the pages of John's journal at the table. Sam and Angela sat across from him, using the laptop.

"Maybe a…Tulpa?" Sam asked.

"No, killings are too spread out." Angela sighed.

"True." Sam agreed. "Um…angel?"

"It's a little imaginative for the God squad, don't you think?" Dean retorted.

Sam sighed. "Alright. So…what?"

"Yeah, I don't know. I'm tapped out." Dean replied.

"Well, whatever it is, at least we know where it is," Angela noted.

"Plucky's!" Dean exclaimed.

"That's where the victims are getting picked up." Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, but we swept the place last night, and nada," Dean replied.

"Angie and I can go back," Sam suggested. "Go to the employees, maybe dig up some dirt."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What good's that gonna do? They think you're Feds. The one guy who was gonna rat, he got Bruce'd. If anybody knows anything, they're not gonna tell you."

"Alright." Sam clapped his hands once. "Yep. That's the plan." He stood up. "Angie and I will go back, play good cop, bad cop." Sam nodded as he walked to the bathroom.

"And…?" Dean asked.

"And…when we're done, then you watch them," Sam instructed.

"So, if somebody freaks out, then that's our creep." Dean nodded.

"Or he'll lead us closer, and you can track him." Angela shrugged.

"Well, what's my cover?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Just hang back. Act normal." Sam replied as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Yeah, yeah. Guy in his thirties hanging out at Plucky's alone—that's normal. That's not pervy at all." Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Jean was talking to another employee. "So, it doesn't matter what people say. We've roped it off. I've notified the powers that be. Everyone's aware."

Sam and Angela walked up. Sam cleared his throat loudly.

"Just no one goes in the…"

"Hi." Sam interrupted.

"Agents," Jean replied. "I bet I know why you're here."

"How's business?" Sam asked.

"Turns out not even grim flippin' death can slow down the birthday fun," Jean answered.

"Oh." Sam nodded.

"We roped off the ball pit, though, until corporate can get here," Jean explained. "I just can't believe the machine fritzed and did Saul in like that."

Angela nodded. "Us too. Jean, we're going to need to talk to some of your employees."

Jean's brows furrowed. "Like who?"

"Like you," Sam replied somewhat menacingly.

Jean led the way to the back. Dean was sitting at a table in the restaurant area watching. A girl walked past him carrying a large rainbow-colored slinky. Dean looked around and got up.

Howard was behind a counter. Behind him were shelves stocked with novelty items, including the giant slinky.

"Howdy, friend!" Howard grinned.

Dean raised a hand towards the giant slinky. "Giant slinky. Would have killed for one of those when I was a kid. How much?"

"1,000 tickets," Howard replied, the grin still on his face.

"American DeNiro," Dean replied. "How much?"

"Oh, we don't take cash here at Plucky Pennywhistle's," Howard replied. "Only tickets won through hard work and determination."

Dean nodded. "You mainlined the kool-aid, huh?"

Howard laughed and Dean looked unamused.

"It's double-ticket Tuesday if you play ski ball," Howard explained.

~/~\~

Jean was seated at the table. Angela sat across from her, and Sam stayed on his feet.

"So, Jean," Angela smiled a small smile. "Where were you last night?"

"Well, here. Obviously." Jean replied. "I found him. But I was by the cash register the whole time. There's a security camera pointed right at the counter. The cops already looked at it."

"Uh-huh. And you heard nothing?" Sam raised his brows.

"I heard the ball blaster," Jean replied. "I didn't hear him. If I did, I would have run in, of course."

"Yeah, right, right. So, that's your excuse." Sam glared.

Jean frowned. "My what? Look, I know I'm new to this job, but I'm—

"What?" Angela asked curiously. "How new, Jean?"

"Couple weeks." She shrugged. "I just got promoted."

"Hmm." Sam hummed. "So, uh, was there a lot of competition for the gig?"

"I guess," Jean replied. "It comes with benefits. The bosses had us all write essays about how we would do our best for the kids, and they picked me. Don't be shocked, but I actually did two semesters at college, so…I'm not in any kind of trouble, am I?"

"I don't know." Sam narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you tell me?"

Jean swallowed nervously. "Look, I know I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. And, I mean, it's not as if I'd ever do anything illegal."

Sam slammed a hand on the table and leaned over close to Jean. "Sure you wouldn't."

~/~\~

A ball hit the '30' ring of the ski ball machine. Dean beamed excitedly. He tore off the three tickets that came out of the machine and looked less pleased. Jean came out of the break room. Dean tossed another ball, which went into a '100' ring but didn't wait to collect the tickets. He followed Jean as she grabbed a jacket and went outside through an _'Employees Only'_ door. Dean watched as she lit a joint.

~/~\~

Sam received a text from Dean that read: _'High Times not our gal'_. Howard was reading Sam's FBI business card.

"Special Agent?" Howard asked excitedly. "Wow! I want you two to know that I really appreciate what you do, and—

"Quiet." Sam glared.

~/~\~

A chubby boy was kneeling on the ski ball machine putting the balls directly into the rings.

"Hey! Stop cheating!" Tyler exclaimed.

The boy looked at Tyler and went back to what he was doing.

Dean walked up and glared. "You heard him. Knock it off!"

The boy immediately got off the machine and ran away.

"Jackass." Tyler and Dean said in unison.

Tyler and Dean looked at each other. Dean smiled slightly. Libby walked towards Tyler carrying a piece of pizza on a plate.

"Tyler, soup's on," Libby said.

Tyler walked over to a small table and sat down. Libby had put the plate down in front of his seat. Dean took the tickets from the ski ball machine left by the boy who was cheating.

"But, Mom, I don't want—

"Just eat it." Libby pleaded.

"But it sucks!" Tyler complained.

Libby sighed and walked away. Tyler moved the plate to one side, pulled a place-mat out, and picked up a pencil.

"Hey, why don't you cut her some slack?" Dean asked as he walked over.

Tyler looked up. "What do you care?"

"Because I've been where you are," Dean replied.

"Your mom made you camp at a stupid Plucky's after school?" Tyler asked.

"Y—no." Dean shook his head. "No, but my dad, he…hauled me places. Besides, she's working a tough gig." He nodded towards Libby. "You know? She's exhausted. You should take pity on the old. And, hey, free grub."

Tyler looked at the pizza. "That stuff tastes like butt."

"What?" Dean scoffed. "Come on, it can't be that bad." He picked up Tyler's plate. "Let's see here." He took a bite of the pizza and chewed. After a few moments, he looked disgusted. "Ah…" he spat the pizza out. "That is butt."

Dean put the plate down. Tyler smiled. Dean looked at Tyler's drawing, which was of a robot with red beams coming from its eyes.

"You scared of robots?" Dean asked.

"They have _laser eyes_!" Tyler exclaimed.

"Yes." Dean nodded.

Howards walked past from the break room. A child tugged on his vest from behind. Dean watched as Howard talked to the child and took out his phone.

~/~\~

Sam received another text from Dean saying that Howard wasn't the guy. Someone in a lion costume was seated at the table.

"Can you please take off the head?" Angela asked.

The young man lifted the head off of the costume.

"Why'd you do it?" Sam glared.

"Do…what?" the young man asked.

"I think you know," Sam replied.

"I…I got rights! You can't—

Sam shoved an empty chair out of the way and leaned over with his hands on the table. "We're the federal government, pal! We can do whatever we want."

The young man held up his hands. "Okay. I'll talk."

Sam took a step back from the table. The young man threw the lion head at him and ran for the door.

"Dean!" Angela yelled.

~/~\~

The young man ran past Dean. Sam, Dean, and Angela followed. Sam came to a halt when a clown blocked his path.

Angela grabbed Sam's hand and tugged him. "Sammy, come on!"

~/~\~

The young man ran out of the _'Employees Only'_ door, followed by Dean, Sam, and Angela. Cliff rounded a corner as Dean got closer.

"Hey! Hey! Come here!" Dean grabbed the tale of the lion costume. It came off in his hand and he threw it away. "Hey!"

Dean tackled Cliff into a pile of tires. He rolled Cliff over onto his back and held him down.

"If this is about the meth lab that fire-balled up in Butte, it wasn't me." Cliff breathed. "Okay, it was my brother, but, um, we got the same fingerprints, and…Please. This is the best job I've ever had."

"Alright, look, uh…" Dean trailed off.

"Cliff." The young man replied.

"Cliff." Dean nodded. "You're not using kids' nightmares to smoke people, are you, Cliff?"

Cliff frowned. "I don't…think so."

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Get up." He told Cliff, hauling him to his feet.

"What's going on?" Cliff's brows furrowed.

"Alright, cards up," Dean replied. "Yeah, we don't care that you, you know, broke bad or whatever. But there is some seriously weird going on in there."

"You mean the sub-basement." Cliff shrugged.

Angela looked surprised. "This place has a sub-basement?"

"Sure." Cliff nodded. "Door's out back. Easy to miss if you don't know."

"What's in there?" Dean asked.

"Alls I know is… Me and Saul used to come in after-hours sometimes and…" Cliff laughed. "You ever shroom in a ball pit?" He asked, still laughing. He turned to look at Sam and wiped the smile off of his face. "Not that I…would, agents. It was Saul. Just Saul. All alone. Anyway…Sometimes we'd hear, like, spooky stuff, through the vents…coming up from the boiler room."

~/~\~

Libby, carrying a bag, walked towards Tyler's table. She put an arm around his shoulders and they walked together.

"Okay, kiddo. Let's go."

"But somebody stole it!" Tyler complained.

Libby stopped and took Tyler's face in her hands. Sam, Dean, and Angela were watching.

"So, draw another one!" Libby replied sharply. "Okay? We gotta go."

Libby took Tyler's hand. Tyler saw Dean, who was giving him a look.

Tyler looked up at his mother. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Libby looked surprised at the apology. "Thank you."

"That place-mat sucked anyway." Tyler shrugged.

Libby and Tyler walked off. Dean walked over to Tyler's table and looked at the blank place-mats.

"Dean," Angela frowned. "What? What is it?"

"While you two were questioning the employees, uh, Tyler's mom got pissy with him, and now his place-mat is missing," Dean explained.

"So, what do you think?" Sam asked.

"I think the bitchy mom plus, uh, sad kid plus place-mat with something nuts written on it…equals wacky corpse," Dean replied.

"So, you think she's next on the list?" Angela asked.

"Alright, I'll tail them just to be safe," Sam suggested. "You and Angie—

"Check the boiler room. I know." Dean interrupted.

"Right," Sam replied. He leaned down and kissed Angela quickly before walking off, but he turned back. "Oh. Oh. Uh, Dean, hey, uh, any idea what he drew?"

"Robot," Dean replied.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Robot?"

"Yeah, about the size of a house," Dean explained. "Shoots destructo beams out of its eyes."

Sam paused. "At least I'll see it coming."

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela entered the boiler room and looked around using flashlights. There was a large pot with a flame burning in the center of the room.

"Now, that's perfectly normal," Angela commented sarcastically.

Dean and Angela continued to look around and noticed the children's drawings on the wall. Three dolls were on the table next to an open spell book. Dean closed the book and noticed that Tyler's place-mat was under it.

"Drop it," Howard said suddenly.

Dean and Angela turned to see Howard holding a gun.

"Drop it!" Howard yelled.

Both Dean and Angela set their guns on the floor.

"Mm-hmm. Now kick it over." Howard instructed.

The two hunters slid their guns toward Howard with their feet.

"Some pretty heavy hoodoo you got here," Dean noted. "I gotta say, as far as I know, none of these things, uh, can poop out a unicorn."

Howard walked closer. "There's power in fear. And when a child draws what he's afraid of, a little of that mojo ends up on the page."

"So, what, you toss it in the fire, and some bed-wetter's horror show comes to life?" Dean raised his brows.

"I got to get something of the parent, too," Howard explained. "Something they own. That bit gets tricky."

"Well, it hasn't seemed to slow you down," Angela replied.

"I'm just doing what I need to!" Howard snapped.

"Okay. Okay. We get it. Okay?" Dean replied.

Dean threw the spell book out Howard. Howard spun out of the way but didn't drop his gun. Dean ripped the place-mat with the drawing of a robot in half.

"No drawing…No Iron Giant!" Dean exclaimed as he crumpled the two halves of the drawing and tossed them away.

Howard narrowed his eyes. "Oh, that b-word is still on the list! But not tonight. Bigger fish."

"What, are you gonna shoot us, Howard?" Angela asked. "You really want two bodies on your hands? Blood everywhere?"

Howard pointed the gun directly at Angela. "I'd shut up!" he yelled. "'Cause I got lots of ways to take care of bullies. Don't you worry. Like that FBI guy. You seem pretty close to him, right?"

"Oh, you son of a bitch." Angela growled.

"I saw you chase Cliff down. Five minutes ago," Howard smirked. "His business card was torched. Along with something from my… _personal collection._ " Howard picked up several place-mats with children's drawings. "I—I—I picked it out real special for him, too." He added. "Soon as I saw him, I noticed. He was staring at every little Plucky like it was gonna stab him or something. Basically clung to you for dear life. Guy's got a real thing about clowns."

~/~\~

Sam got out of the Jeep that was parked near Libby's house. A clown appeared in front of him and he gasped. The clown stepped towards Sam, laughing.

~/~\~

Sam burst through a garage door. He slammed the door behind him and moved the metal objects in front of it. He heard a crash and turned to see that the clown had followed him. It laughed maniacally. Sam started to walk away from the clown, but the second clown, which was also laughing, had appeared in front of him. Sam stopped and the second clown zoomed closer. Sam shot the second clown and glitter flew. The second clown punched Sam twice.

~/~\~

"Well, hey, these are, uh, really nice dolls," Dean commented. "Did you…" He picked up a clown doll. "Pain them yourself?"

Howard stood silently.

"Oh. Uh, friggin' Plucky." Dean muttered.

"Plucky helps kids." Howard defended. "It's all I ever wanted to do. And when the management slot opened up, I…but they passed me over."

"Shocker." Angela retorted.

"No, I told them, 'No one cares more than me'," Howard replied.

Dean set the clown doll back on the table.

"But suits never listen." Howard continued.

Dean slipped the doll into the back pocket of his jeans.

"So, I'm doing it my way." Howard shrugged.

"So, let me get this straight," Dean replied. "You didn't get the good parking space, so you start dropping bodies?"

"Those parents were horrible. They deserved what they got." Howard replied.

"What about Saul?" Angela asked.

"Saul had a big mouth!"

~/~\~

The second clown was holding Sam from behind. Sam headbutted the clown. The first clown sprayed Sam with seltzer from a flower on his jacket.

~/~\~

"Some guy hits on the babysitter, all of a sudden he's the world's worst dad?" Dean scoffed.

"A good parent puts his kids first." Howard glared.

"And having a little girl watch her dad get killed by the closet monster—that's putting her first?" Angela raised her brows.

"In the long run, they'll all be better off," Howard assured.

"You think so? Really?" Dean asked.

"I would have been," Howard replied.

Angela glanced at the pictures on the wall. "So, your brother." She said. "What happened to him?"

"It's not my fault! It's theirs!" Howard cried.

~/~\~

Sam hit the windshield of the pickup. One clown pulled Sam off the hood of the pickup. The other kicked Sam in the stomach. Sam raised his left arm to deliver a backward hit to the second clown, and Sam hit the first clown with the tire iron.

~/~\~

"Looks to me like he drowned," Angela noted, looking at the drawings.

"I was screaming…But my folks…They didn't listen," Howard replied. "They didn't listen. They _never_ listened."

"It was an accident," Dean assured.

"They let him die!" Howard cried.

~/~\~

Sam ducked as the second clown took a swing at him, then hit that clown with the tire iron. The second clown tossed the wrench it was holding to the first clown and the first clown hit Sam with it. Sam went down, but got back to his feet and hit the first clown in the groin with the tire iron. He turned and hit the second clown across the face. A large tooth flew from the clown's mouth with a sprinkling of glitter.

~/~\~

Dean took the picture of the person underwater with fish off the wall and held it up to Howard. "I'll bet you still have nightmares. In fact, I'll bet you haven't been in the water since."

"Shut up!" Howard cried.

"Because you're afraid," Angela noted.

Dean took the clown doll out of his back pocket, then put both the drawing and the doll in the fire.

"No!" Howard yelled.

Howard lunged towards the fire, but the flames leaped up and the three leaned back. Howard shot three times as Dean and Angela dropped to the floor and drew their guns. Everyone in the room froze. A young boy with three bullet holes in his shirt had appeared. The bullet holes closed up and the young boy moved towards Howard.

"It wasn't my fault." Howard breathed.

The young boy continued to walk towards Howard.

"I'm sorry." Howard's voice cracked.

Dean and Angela got to their feet.

The young boy reached for Howard's right hand, which was holding his gun. Howard fell to his knees and made choking sounds. Howard began to splutter water.

~/~\~

The first clown ran at Sam brandishing a large metal bar. Sam raised a wrench to defend himself. The second clown moved towards Sam from behind. As the clowns reached Sam, they vanished in an explosion of glitter. Sam looked around frantically and spat glitter out of his mouth.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were leaning against the car. Sam pulled up in the Jeep and got out. He was still covered head to toe in glitter. Sam raised an arm and made a circular motion with his finger.

"Let's roll," Sam said. He noticed Dean and Angela struggling to stifle their laughter. Sam spread out his arms, inviting their reactions. "Go ahead. Say it."

Dean and Angela immediately started laughing.

"I'm sorry," Dean laughed.

Sam started to smile.

"You look like you got attacked by some PCP-crazed strippers!" Dean laughed, causing Sam to smile even wider.

"One of them sprayed me with seltzer from his flower." Sam chuckled.

Dean laughed even louder. Sam looked surprised at Dean's reaction and Angela walked over to Sam, still chuckling.

"I'm s—whew. What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing. Carry on." Sam shook his head.

"You know what, babe?" Angela grinned. "Glitter doesn't look half bad on you."

Sam raised his brows. "Oh yeah?" he asked. "Well, come here, Angie," he smirked, moving towards her.

Angela shrieked as Sam grabbed her by her waist and enveloped her with his large frame.

"Sammy!" Angela giggled.

Sam pulled away slightly and chuckled. "Glitter doesn't look bad on you either, babe."

Angela grinned and looked up at Sam. "Well now we can just shower off together."

Dean cleared his throat and the couple looked at him. "Sam…I'm sorry for…psychologically scarring you," Dean noted.

"Which time?" Sam smirked.

"Shut up." Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously. You know, me—ditching you when we were kids, that was a dick move. You know, the whole clown thing—

"You know what, man? Honestly…" Sam interrupted. "Getting my ass kicked by those Juggalos tonight was, uh…it was therapeutic."

"You faced your fear." Angela smiled.

"Exactly." Sam agreed. "And now what else could a clown possible ever do to me? I feel good."

"Well, congrats," Dean replied.

"By the way, to celebrate…" Sam started as he walked to the Jeep.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam took a giant slinky out of the Jeep and walked towards Dean.

"No!" Dean exclaimed.

"Yes." Sam grinned as he gave the slinky to Dean.

"Did you win this?" Dean asked.

"We earned that." Sam corrected.

"Haha!" Dean grinned. "Hey, I got you a little something, too, actually."

Dean put the giant slinky on the roof of the car and reached into the car for a clown doll, which he tossed to Sam. Sam shuddered and held it up. Angela gently took the doll from him.

"What?" Dean shrugged. "You said you were over it. You can think of it as a…clown phobia sobriety chip."

Sam rolled his eyes and the hunters got into the car, leaving the clown doll behind.


	29. Repo Man Part 1

_Four Years Ago_

A woman driving a station wagon pulled up behind the Impala, which was parked in a wooded area. The woman got out of the car and walked to the front door of a house. After she knocked a few times Sam opened the door, brows furrowed.

"Ms. Havelock, you shouldn't have come." Sam frowned.

Ms. Havelock entered the house and Sam closed the door behind her.

"I needed to see it for myself—after all that tracking, all those hours we spent." She replied. "I mean, it's one thing to study them in books. It's…"

Dean was sharpening a knife and Angela was leaning against a table, arms folded across her chest. A possessed man with blood on his hands, arms, and face was tied to a chair with leather cuffs.

"Do I smell menopause?" the man snarled.

Sam and Ms. Havelock were standing in the doorway.

The man smirked wickedly. "Well, if it isn't the Wiccan bitch of the west. Ms. Havelock, I know you're the one that helped them find me."

Ms. Havelock noticed the body of a woman, covered with a tablecloth, on the kitchen table. "My God…"

The man's eyes followed Ms. Havelock's to the body on the table. "Not in time to save our big girl here, but still, you get a merit badge."

The chair in which the possessed man was tied was in a devil's trap on the floor. Ms. Havelock walked over to the man and spoke close to his face.

"They caught you," she replied. "You son of a bitch! No more murders! And you're going back to Hell."

"Oh, Nora, Nora…" the man smirked. "I'm gonna scoop you out like a pumpkin. You know that?"

The man's eyes turned black and he growled threateningly. Nora jumped back and left the room with a shriek. The man just laughed evilly. Sam watched from the window as Nora drove away.

"You ain't the first demon we've tracked down on this safari." Dean glared.

"That's right." Sam agreed. "As a matter of fact, I think you put us over half a dozen."

"Looking for Lilith in all the wrong places." The demon replied.

"Well, you're gonna help us with that." Angela pushed herself from the table.

The demon smirked. "If things are about to get messy, maybe you should meet the owner of this fleshy temple. A puppy of a man. You'll like him." He replied. The demon looked down, groaned, then looked up with a grimace.

"Jeffrey?" Angela walked over to him. "Jeffrey, is that you?" she crouched down in front of him.

Jeffrey saw the woman's body on the table, his eyes widening. "Oh, God. No. You have to stop him."

"We will, hon," Angela replied gently. "We're going to, okay? We're gonna send that demon back to Hell."

"Okay." Jeffrey nodded. "Please don't hurt me."

"Jeffrey, before we can let him go…" Sam started. "Look, the demon knows where we can find more of his kind, okay?"

"See, we're hunting them— _all of them,_ " Dean explained. "He's not gonna give up his Rolodex easy. Jeffrey, we're gonna have to cut into him. That means you."

"Oh, the things he made me do to those women." Jeffrey sobbed. "Whatever you have to do…You have to do it. Please just stop this evil piece of…"

Jeffrey choked as the demon took control of his body again. His eyes turned black.

"And on and on and on." The demon smirked as Angela stood up. "Frankly, he can get tedious with this whole 'good and evil' thing."

"You know, you were right," Dean replied. "I like Jeffrey. He's a decent guy. In fact, he just signed off on his temple." He added as he poured holy water on his knife.

"Uh…" the demon groaned.

Dean stabbed at the demon with the knife. He cried out and sizzled from the holy water. Dean threw more holy water at the demon, then punched him. Sam also punched Jeffrey as Angela emptied holy water from a flask onto his head. Dean slashed at Jeffrey with the knife.

"She's got other lieutenants." Dean glared. "We already know that."

"We want names." Angela glared.

Sam, Dean, and Angela took turns punching Jeffrey again. Sam poured more holy water onto Jeffrey's head, causing the demon to scream. Dean held up a branding iron.

"Alright!" the demon roared. "Alright! His name is Merrick! I swear! You'll find him in New Orleans!"

Dean opened his book. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis!"

Black smoke poured from Jeffrey's mouth.

~/~\~

Dean was in the Impala and Jeffrey was lying down in the back.

"Jeffrey? Jeffrey, you awake?" Dean asked.

Jeffrey started to cough and sputter.

"Hey, you passed out." Dean continued. "You're in shock."

"He's—he's gone?" Jeffrey stammered.

"We exorcised him," Dean confirmed. "Try not to move, okay? We're almost to the hospital."

Jeffrey moaned. "Your…your brother a-and your…friend?"

"They stayed back to clean us out of that crime scene," Dean explained. "There's no reason to go down for a demon's murders, you know what I mean?"

The Impala pulled up outside of the CDA Regional Hospital emergency entrance. Dean helped Jeffrey out of the car and held him upright.

"Alright. Alright, take it easy." Dean muttered. "Alright, you good to make it from here, right?"

Jeffrey nodded.

"Okay, Jeffrey, no demon talk in the ER, you understand me? You were mugged."

"Okay," Jeffrey mumbled.

"Okay." Dean nodded. He took his hands away and got back into the car.

"Alright. Um, uh, thank you." Jeffrey waved weakly.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela opened the door to their motel room and looked inside. Dean turned on the light as they got inside. Dean's phone suddenly started to ring.

"Classified server?" Dean frowned. "Got to be Devereaux, right?" he added. "Hello? Thank God. Frank…" he answered, taking a radio receiver from Sam. "Frank, what do you got for me?"

Sam and Angela were taking things out of their bags. Sam noticed his hallucination of Lucifer was in the room.

"It's nice." Lucifer leaned against the wall.

"Frank, you're breaking up." Dean sighed.

"Kind of like a men's room with beds," Lucifer added. He peeled a green mark off the wall. "Hmm, avocado grime."

Sam opened a folder, which contained a bloody photo of flesh and an autopsy report, and put it on top of another open folder on the bed.

"Takes years to build up a patina like this," Lucifer muttered, putting the grime in his mouth.

Sam pressed hard on his left palm with his right hand, causing Lucifer to flicker and disappear. Angela frowned when she noticed the action.

"Sam, you okay?" she asked concernedly.

Sam forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, babe, don't worry."

"What do you mean you can't find him?" Dean asked. "It's Dick Roman. Turn on CNN. Didn't you see him at that, uh, press conference in Phoenix? The bastard's everywhere." He added. "You sure? No, I-I-I don't…I don't care that they've infiltrated the luxury boat industry, Frank." Dean sighed. "Great. Call Kanye."

"Frank's still stumped on Roman?" Angela asked as Dean hung up the phone.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Alright, let's do this."

"Okay, um, look at the victim profiles." Sam gestured to the folders. "Same age, same hair color, body type. The ritual mutilations line up exactly."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Who down there would've let our demon out of the can? He squealed on his superiors." Dean replied. "We made sure of that. I mean, he should be down under until, uh, trumpet day."

"But two women killed in the last two weeks," Angela sighed. "Same parts missing, I mean, same old hunting grounds, even."

"Alright, well, we can take a swing at it," Dean replied. "But you guys know it's all about the Leviathans now, okay? They're the ones we need to be hunting."

Sam sighed deeply. "Yeah, but, no—I mean, not right now. This one's ours, Dean. It's unfinished business, apparently."

"Alright." Dean sighed.

~/~\~

"This is Unit 32." A voice on the radio receiver said. "Repeat, Unit 32."

The three hunters were asleep under the covers in their beds. Angela's back was pressed up against Sam's chest and he had his arm draped over her waist.

"We've got another one." The voice on the radio said.

Sam and Dean opened their eyes. Angela sat up slightly and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"That's a 187. Female Caucasian…maybe late 30s, at the Henley Auto-Wash."

"Unit 32, assistance is en route."

Sam turned on the light between the beds.

"We got a real mess here, dispatch."

~/~\~

A body mostly covered with a bloodstained sheet was on the ground and a police team worked around it. Sam cleared his throat to get the officer's attention and the three hunters flashed their badges.

"Thanks." Angela smiled as they ducked under the 'Do Not Cross' line.

"You know, every time we do this, I wonder if today's the day," Dean muttered. "We walk up, flash our tin to a bunch of chompers pretending to be policemen."

"I hear you." Sam agreed.

A Detective grabbed Sam by the shoulder and Sam turned to face him. Lucifer leaned against the coroner's vehicle behind the Detective.

"Thought you three might show up." The Detective smiled. "Agents, uh, Bonham…Watts…and Ross, right?"

"Yeah." Sam and Angela replied.

"Yeah, absolutely." Dean agreed.

"Uh, it's a pleasure to see you again, Detective…" Sam trailed off.

"Sutton," Lucifer whispered.

"You know what? Pardon me." Sam smiled. "Uh, what was it, Detective…"

"Sutton." Lucifer enunciated clearly.

"Oh, no problemo—Detective Sutton." The man smiled and shook Sam's hand.

"Sutton." Sam nodded.

"Sutton, yeah." Dean nodded.

Detective Sutton shook Dean's hand and then Angela's.

"Hi," Angela smiled.

Detective Sutton noticed the engagement ring on Angela's finger when he let go of her hand. "Recently engaged, Agent?"

Angela smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Congratulations," Detective Sutton smiled.

A police photographer took a picture of broken glass in the back of a 4WD vehicle near the victim's body.

"Sad to say, the case looks to be open again." Detective Sutton sighed, getting back to business.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

Detective Sutton and the three hunters walked towards the body.

"Same tools." Detective Sutton replied.

Behind them, Lucifer poked out a forked tongue.

"Same cuts. Same crazy." Detective Sutton added.

The victim's case was cut and the pinky finger on her left hand and part of her palm were missing. Sam walked to the front of the vehicle.

"Makes sense." Detective Sutton shrugged. "I mean, we didn't catch the critter last time, did we?"

"And no suspects?" Angela asked.

"Same as before. Very thorough. Cold-blooded." Detective Sutton replied.

Sam looked in the driver's side window of the vehicle.

"Thank you, Detective." Dean nodded.

"Any time." The Detective smiled before walking off.

Sam nodded to Dean and Angela as he rejoined them and they looked in the back of the vehicle. Along with the blood and broken glass, there was yellow powder.

"Hey," Angela frowned. She touched a finger to the yellow powder and smelled it. "Sulfur."

"Dammit." Dean sighed. "Better go check on Havelock."

~/~\~

"This is it." Nora led the hunters into her store.

"Wiccansweb dot com." Sam read the sign as they walked in.

Nora closed the front door. "Internet mail order. White magic only—herbs and talismans."

Nora opened the doors to another room. A devil's trap was painted on the floor in the doorway. Nora walked around it.

Angela's brows furrowed. "You sure about that?"

"Careful, it's still drying," Nora replied. "I have a friend at the sheriff's office. I know about all the new murders. I'm doing what I can to protect myself."

Sam, Dean, and Angela skirted the devil's trap. Nora walked behind a desk and handed Sam some pieces of paper.

"I'm also translating some very old banishments."

"Wow, uh, there are—there are good," Sam replied as he read over the papers.

"Thanks." Nora smiled a small smile. "I've got an affinity. But back then, that night in that farmhouse, I was in over my head. I know that now, believe me. I will leave all that to the pros."

"Well, you helped track it down," Angela replied. "I mean, it was some solid legwork."

"When it came down to it, all I really knew was somebody who knew somebody who knew the right number to call," Nora admitted. "And your number is not working, by the way,"

"Right, we, uh, we've had some technical difficulties—phone issues," Sam replied.

"It's a monster problem, really," Dean added.

Sam and Angela gave Dean a look.

"So, uh, you haven't had any contact?" Angela asked.

"With the demon?" Nora asked. "No, thank God. I have one or two things to finish in town, and then I'm leaving."

"Good choice." Dean nodded.

"Have you found Jeffrey yet?" Nora asked.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Who?"

"The man who the demon possessed," Nora replied obviously. "The one you almost beat to death."

Dean thought for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, Jeffrey. That poor bastard."

"Some demons tend to be sentimental, don't they?" Nora asked. "Always go back to the same host if they can."

"It's a start." Sam sighed.

~/~\~

"Bye." The woman said as Jeffrey exited the animal shelter.

Jeffrey was carrying a small dog with a cone around its neck. "You okay there?" he cooed. "Huh? Surgery's a bucket of laughs, huh? You look good. I'm sorry for the cone of shame, but we got to keep these stitches in."

Jeffrey set the dog down on the ground gently.

"Okay. Okay. Come on. Come on."

Jeffrey walked along the street, leading the dog on a leash. It was clear that Jeffrey had a limp. He paused when he heard a noise and looked down an alleyway. He saw no one and walked down it. Dean grabbed Jeffrey from behind and held a knife to his throat. Sam and Angela were in front of him. Sam held up a flask in front of Jeffrey.

~/~\~

Jeffrey gasped and struggled in Dean's hold.

"Jeffrey?" Sam and Angela asked.

"Jeffrey?" Dean let him go.

"Okay," Angela said gently. "Look, it's okay. You're okay, you're okay."

"Sorry," Dean apologized. "Just had to make sure."

Jeffrey's brows furrowed. "Make sure of what—that I peed my pants today?" he asked. Jeffrey heard the dog whimper and looked down. "Aw, you scared my dog."

"Uh, we did not want to do that," Sam muttered.

"Listen, Jeff, we got to, uh, we got to talk." Dean pursed his lips.

~/~\~

Jeffrey and the three hunters were in Jeffrey's apartment. Jeffrey sat down on a sofa and Lucifer was sitting on one arm of the sofa.

"Well, this is, uh…" Dean looked around as he sat next to Jeffrey.

Sam and Angela sat on two nearby chairs.

"I know what it is," Jeffrey replied.

"Look, I know it must've been, um, hard." Sam started.

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Lucifer scoffed.

Sam pressed on his left palm. Angela noticed this and rested a comforting hand on Sam's thigh.

"Oh, don't bother." Lucifer waved Sam off before disappearing.

"What do you guys want from me?" Jeffrey swallowed nervously.

Angela sighed. "Well, um, we're pretty sure the demon that possessed you…is back."

Jeffrey's eyes widened. "What?" his voice wavered. "What do you mean? You _exorcised_ him, right? He's…" he rambled as he stood up. Sam stood up as well. "He's supposed to be in Hell!" Jeffrey exclaimed.

"Jeffrey, look, please just calm down," Sam replied gently. "Just have a seat, please."

Both Jeffrey and Sam sat down again.

"I don't understand." Jeffrey swallowed nervously.

"Three more women have been murdered over the past two weeks," Angela explained.

"No, no." Jeffrey shook his head.

"Same vic profiles, same forensics, crime scene dusted with sulfur," Dean added. "We've got to assume that it's him."

"But we're here now, okay?" Sam assured. "So if he comes after you, we'll nail him just like we did last time."

Jeffrey let out a shaky sigh. "What was her name?"

Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"The last one he killed." Jeffrey pressed.

"Uh, Anna?" Dean recalled.

"Anna Paxton," Sam replied.

"Marjorie Willis." Jeffrey breathed. "She's the next one on the list."

"List? What list?" Angela inquired.

"The demon used to recite it all the time, like a grocery list," Jeffrey explained. "He burned it in my head—the named of all the women he was gonna kill."

Sam looked puzzled. "He already had his victims chosen?"

Jeffrey nodded. "And put in a line in order."

"Wait," Dean frowned. "Why? Demons aren't usually into the obsessive serial-killer crap. You know, they're more just kind of all-around evil. Why would he do this?"

"He said it was his job," Jeffrey replied vaguely.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Jeffrey held a finger to his lips as he got up to open the door.

"Jeffrey, did your, uh, guests sign in?" Alan asked.

"I'm really sorry, Alan." Jeffrey apologized. "They're friends of mine from my days back at the Post Office. I didn't know they were coming."

Angela sighed. "So, what do you think?"

"I think we really helped mess this poor son of a bitch up," Dean replied quietly. "Look at him. He's got a state-assigned dad."

"Okay, just get them to sign in when they sign out." Alan smiled.

Jeffrey nodded and closed the door. Sam, Dean, and Angela got up.

"Uh, Jeffrey, look, I'm gonna go, uh, I'm gonna go find Marjorie Willis, keep her on watch, okay?" Sam explained.

A confused and frightened look flashed across Jeffrey's face.

"Don't worry," Dean assured. "Angie and I are gonna stay here just in case."

~/~\~

Sam entered the library and looked around.

"Excuse me." A woman smiled.

She pushed a trolley of books as she walked passed Sam. Lucifer appeared behind him.

"You're right," Lucifer commented. "We just don't read anymore."

Sam walked with Lucifer right behind him. Lucifer pointed to the woman.

"Marjorie Willis," Lucifer noted. "Librarian, indoor gardening enthusiast, our demon's next organ donor."

Marjorie took a seat at a desk. Sam and Lucifer sat down at the table. Lucifer smirked as he blocked Sam's view of Marjorie. Sam sighed and shifted a little to try and see around him. Lucifer crossed his arms and stared at Sam.

"Come on, Sam, talk to me," Lucifer whined. "It's been months."

~/~\~

Jeffrey, Angela, and Dean sat on the couch.

"When you left me at the ER…" Jeffrey started. "I had three smashed fingers, five teeth out, a broken wrist, nose, cheekbone, collarbone. I had to get 160 stitches." He explained. Jeffrey exhaled and smiled. "Mugged. The Doctor on duty said it looked like I got caught in the Spanish Inquisition."

"And we're the good guys," Dean replied.

"They patched me up, mostly." Jeffrey shrugged. "But I lost my job, my health insurance. I just started to drink and drift, and I got lost. Had some kind of mental break. And I started to talk…about what happened."

"Aw, man." Dean groaned. "Never tell. Never…never."

"I know that now, believe me." Jeffrey scoffed.

"So, let me guess," Dean replied. "Drunk tank to psych eval to 72-hour forced hold to a nice long stay at an institution of their choice."

"Yes," Jeffrey confirmed.

"It's happened to friends of ours." Angela sighed.

"For a long time, I didn't care," Jeffrey admitted. "The truth was more important than where I was. I was in no shape to cope with the outside world."

"Well, hey, you got out, you know? Holding it together." Dean replied.

"And now the demon is back," Jeffrey muttered.

"Yeah," Angela sighed. "We're sorry. Seriously—about all of it, you know?"

Jeffrey's brows furrowed. "You saved my life. I owe you for it. I know that. I owe a lot of people for getting even this far." He explained. "I…crap."

"What?" Dean frowned.

Jeffrey pursed his lips. "If he isn't already circling the next woman, Marjorie, then I-I think I might know where he is. He had this special place where he kept souvenirs where he nested."

"Why didn't you tell us this?" Angela questioned.

"I didn't want to go." Jeffrey defended.

"You don't have to go. We'll handle it." Dean assured.

"I do. I do have to." Jeffrey pressed.

~/~\~

Lucifer was reading from a book. "Average annual rainfall—Hackberry, Texas…"

Lucifer rolled his eyes and tossed the book down on the table. Sam was reading an autopsy file as Marjorie pushed a trolley of books. There was a loud noise that only Sam appeared to hear, and he jumped. A man and a woman at the next table started to bang their heads against the table, their bodies apparently controlled against their will. Other people at nearby tables started to do the same thing. Sam looked around at the bloodied faces and pressed on his left palm. Lucifer flickered and disappeared. Sam looked over at the next table to see that the man and woman were both uninjured. Sam exhaled sharply. Lucifer was sitting across from him again.

"Come on, Sam, pay attention to me!" Lucifer complained petulantly. "I'm bored."

Sam frowned when he noticed a man in a black jacket walking in the same direction as Marjorie went.

"Civil war buff?" Lucifer asked.

Sam quickly got up and followed the man.

~/~\~

The car pulled up alongside a graffitied fence. Dean and Angela sat up from while Jeffrey and his dog were in the backseat. Dean checked his phone.

"Dammit—no service," Dean muttered. "What about you, Angie?"

Angela opened her phone and shook her head. "Nothing."

Jeffrey looked at the dog. "Good girl. You stay. Here's some jerky. Stay."

Dean frowned. "Thing's not gonna pee in here, is it?"

Jeffrey looked up and shrugged. "Um, I don't know."

Dean sighed deeply and they all got out of the car.

"So, he'd get you this far, and then he'd shut your lights out, yeah?" Angela asked.

"For some reason, he was very secretive about this place," Jeffrey replied. "But after a while, he'd only really sort of cover my eyes when we walked in."

"Okay, you think you can get us back there?" Dean asked.

~/~\~

Sam walked along and looked through the shelves of books.

"Oh! Oh!" a woman's voice gasped.

Sam looked around the bookshelf and saw Marjorie and the man in the black jacket. They were pressed against each other, kissing sloppily. Sam cringed at the sight.

"Right here in my discontinued periodicals. Oh. Oh, that's it." Marjorie moaned.

~/~\~

Dean busted the door open and he, Angela, and Jeffrey entered the abandoned building. Dean and Angela were carrying flashlights. Jeffrey had his eyes closed and a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Red door down the hallway," Jeffrey whispered.

"Yeah, there is." Dean nodded.

Dean took out his knife and Angela took out her gun. The two hunters lead Jeffrey down the hallway. They paused outside of the door and Jeffrey opened his eyes.

"This must be it." He murmured.

Dean, Angela, and Jeffrey looked around the large room. Symbols were painted all over the windows.

"Alright, stay over here, okay?" Angela instructed. "You just stay here. Don't move."

Dean and Angela walked around with their flashlights. Angela frowned when she noticed a man tied to a chair.

"Dean." She whispered.

Dean looked over and frowned when he saw the man. "What the hell?"

Dean shined his flashlight back at Jeffrey, then at the man tied to the chair. Dean and Angela slowly approached the man in the chair.

"Hey," Dean said.

The man's mouth was taped shut.

"Hey. Hey, alright." Dean set down his flashlight and knife.

Angela put her gun in her waistband. "We're gonna get you out of here."

Dean and Angela started to work on the man's chains. The man opened his eyes and thrashed against his bindings.

"Hey, hey, we're not gonna hurt you, okay?" Dean assured. "But you got to stay still."

The man struggled and made frantic noises. Jeffrey plunged a syringe into Dean's neck.

"Dean!" Angela yelled.

Angela went to pull out her gun, but a syringe was plunged into her neck as well.


	30. Repo Man Part 2

Marjorie was sitting at her desk and the man in the black jacket leaned over to kiss her. Sam watched from his seat at a table nearby. Lucifer leaned against the bookshelf behind him.

"I'm pretty sure this guy's the boring sort of chubby chaser," Lucifer commented.

Sam dialed a number on his phone.

 _"Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."_ Dean's recorded message rang through.

"Dean, where are you guys?" Sam asked. "I'm scoping zero out here." He added before hanging up.

Lucifer made a face. "Not a good sign."

Sam ignored Lucifer and read the autopsy reports.

"Hmm. Surprised you haven't picked up on that yet." Lucifer noted. "It's right…there in the coroner's report." He sat opposite Sam. Lucifer watched as Sam read over the drug test results. "Yeah. Uh-huh. In the latest round of killings, our big girls had traces of heavy tranquilizers in their blood. Yeah?" Lucifer explained. "But out demon's strong enough to make fat Betty do whatever he wants to, right? So, why does he need the tranqs? Think he's got a bad back? Yeah, whatever is going on here, you know that demon's not coming back to kill anybody."

Sam dialed another number on his phone.

 _"This is Special Agent Smith,"_ Angela's recorded message rang through. _"Please leave your name, number, and a detailed—_

Sam hung up before the recording could finish.

"Oh, no." Lucifer faux frowned. "You've called every phone that Dean and Angie have. One of them should've picked up, right? Your brother and your fiancée…they're probably dead."

Sam looked over at Lucifer. "Shut up." He whispered. Sam grabbed the reports and left.

Lucifer grinned triumphantly. "He said 'shut up' to me."

~/~\~

Sam picked the lock to Jeffrey's apartment and entered with Lucifer behind him.

"That's what I'm talking about, Sam," Lucifer commented happily. "Real interaction again. I miss that. The rapier wit, the wittier rape. Come on. I'll be good!"

Sam looked under Jeffrey's mattress.

"I'll even help you solve your little _Nancy Drew_ mystery or whatever," Lucifer added.

Sam frantically looked through the things on Jeffrey's desk.

"No note," Lucifer commented.

Sam unlocked the top drawer of Jeffrey's desk and discovered a cell phone signal scrambler.

"Hmm, a cell phone scrambler. But, Luci, those are illegal." Lucifer noted. "Think, Sam. Maybe this has something to do with Angie and Dean's telephone blackout."

Sam looked in the other desk drawers, then in the dresser drawer. He tapped the bottom of the top dresser drawer and took it out of the dresser. Sam turned it over and discovered a metal box strapped underneath it. He opened the box and took out several pieces of paper.

"Hmm. Latin—not suspicious at all." Lucifer sassed.

~/~\~

Sam and Lucifer were walking in an alleyway.

"I've never seen this spell before." Sam sighed as he read the papers.

"No," Lucifer agreed. "But you've seen this type."

"A demon summoning—why?" Sam asked.

"Why?" Lucifer raised his brows. "To summon a demon, jackass. Start looking at _who._ "

Sam's brows furrowed and he looked at Lucifer. "Okay, what do you mean?"

"Look at the page," Lucifer replied.

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "I know this handwriting."

"You know this handwriting." Lucifer agreed.

~/~\~

Sam picked the lock to Nora's store and opened the door. Sam entered with his gun drawn. He opened the door to the office where Lucifer was seated at the desk. Lucifer shook his head and Sam looked around before putting away his gun. Suddenly, Nora came up behind Sam and hit him over the head with a wooden object. Sam fell to the floor and Lucifer winced.

"Iay, caramba! Imi Cabeza!" Lucifer exclaimed.

Sam got up and Nora swung at him. Sam caught her and took the object away from her.

"Nora, stop it! Calm down!" Sam yelled. He held up the paper from Jeffrey's apartment and glared. "What is this? What is this? Why did Jeffrey have a demon summoning in your handwriting?"

"Everything's happening the way he said, the way he planned it." Nora breathed out.

"What plan?!" Sam roared.

Nora shook her head. "You can't help—you can't change it."

"Hit her," Lucifer said casually.

Nora sat down on a sofa.

"Nora, tell me what is going on," Sam demanded.

"Sam, _shake her up,_ " Lucifer instructed. "She knows what happened to Dean and Angie! Get this stupid cow to focus, will you?"

Sam crouched down and spoke very close to Nora's face. "Nora, listen to me!" he bellowed. "Whatever it is, you should be a lot more scared of me right now because I'm two inches away from you, and I can make you talk. Do you understand me?"

Lucifer nodded approvingly. Nora started to cry uncontrollably.

"It's my son. He has my son!" Nora sobbed.

"What were you thinking?" Sam asked. "I mean, why would you even help bring back a demon in the first place?"

"Not the demon. Jeffrey!" Nora cried.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Jeffrey?"

~/~\~

Nora's son was still chained to the chair and was unconscious. He was bleeding heavily from the side of his head. Dean and Angela were tied to two other chairs.

"Angie, you okay?" Dean whispered.

Angela nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"I'm fine," Dean assured. "Jeffrey?" he called out.

Jeffrey was stroking the dog, which was drinking from a bowl of water. "Good. You two are up."

"What happened? What's going on?" Angela asked.

"No one asked you to get involved, to save me, to save anyone." Jeffrey glared.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Did you ever think that maybe I loved being possessed?" Jeffrey posed as he wheeled a table holding ingredients for a spell towards the two hunters. "Did you? I loved the connection, the power. And I loved him. Love of my life, actually."

Dean looked slightly disturbed. "Oh, you got to be kidding me."

"He liberated me," Jeffrey replied as he poured lighter fluid into a bowl full of coals. "Started me on my true-life mission."

"So, you're the one with the thing for all those women." Angela realized. "Aren't you Jeffrey? You're a serial killer."

"I was nothing before he found me—a shadow too scared to do what I was brought here to do," Jeffrey explained. "Too timid to live up to my true potential." He added as he threw a lit match into the bowl.

"So, what happened—redheaded mommy make you stuff birds, put on dresses?" Dean asked.

"You shouldn't trivialize other people's pain," Jeffrey replied.

"So, demon comes along, rides co-pilot in your skull…Teaches you how to kill." Dean theorized.

"The list…" Angela breathed. "That's yours."

"For years, it was just a game I would play," Jeffrey replied. "Every time I'd walk by one of them in the street or see one on my mail route…There's a sound that comes from their brains. You know that?" he smirked. "Only I can hear it, like an evil, little steam whistle. Every time I saw one, I'd follow her, take down her address." He added as he picked up Dean's knife. "But I was never gonna do anything, not till he came along. He's the one who saved me. And you sent him to Hell!"

~/~\~

Nora was still sitting on the sofa. Sam leaned against the desk with a hand to his head where Nora had hit him.

"I kept tabs on Jeffrey after the exorcism," Nora explained. "I even sent him care packages in the hospital, but he never responded. And then not long ago, he came to me."

Lucifer was standing behind Sam.

"He seemed healthy," Nora continued. "Put together, except he wanted to know if there was a way to summon the demon back. He said he'd been doing some research. It was mostly nonsense, but he was convinced it was possible."

"You really knocked the cork out of her pie-hole," Lucifer smirked.

"I sent him away," Nora assured. "I told him to get some more help. The next day he called me. He put my son on the phone. He had taken him from his dorm room." She added as she got up and walked behind the desk. "I have him everything—the ritual, the sigils. But he kept my boy." She took out a wooden box. "And then he sent me this."

Nora handed the box to Sam, who looked confused. Sam opened it and frowned deeply when he saw an ear.

"My baby's ear." Nora murmured. "He cut it off because the ritual didn't work."

"Well…that demon gave up some serious state secrets—would've gone into big lockdown in Hell." Sam sighed. "Not so easy to bring him back up."

"Jeffrey didn't care," Nora replied. "He told me to find out what went wrong or else. Finally, I found a summoning spell that would work for sure." She added as she opened a book and handed it to Sam. "And that's when he said I had another job to do."

"Which was what?" Sam asked.

Nora let out a shaky breath. "When you came, I was supposed to send you to Jeffrey. He left a trail of bodies to make sure of it."

"Blood of the exorcist?" Sam read.

"Strongest summoning spell I've ever seen," Nora replied. "Requires the blood of the exorcist who banished him—your brother. You see? It is all part of Jeffrey's plan. He's not exactly happy with your fiancée either."

"Yeah. Well…New plan." Sam thumped the book and put it down in front of Nora. "Tracking spell—Bavarian, Egyptian, I don't care—dealer's choice. Use the flesh of the body to find the body and Dean and Angie. Do you want the ear or the kid?"

"You're giving me chills," Lucifer said proudly.

Sam glanced at Lucifer and then looked away.

~/~\~

A small bowl containing blood was on the ground behind Dean's chair. Jeffrey was using Dean's knife to cut Dean's arm near the ropes binding his wrists.

"I like to think I know you pretty well," Jeffrey commented.

"Yeah, how do you figure?" Dean asked.

"I watched you torture an innocent man to get out a demon," Jeffrey replied. "Pretty charged situation…revealing. You guys talked about a lot, showed a lot of character. God…you were so desperate to fix the world back then. It kills you…" he picked up the bowl. "That people keep getting hurt…and you just can't stop it. Or should I say…" he set down the bowl and looked at Dean. "It _killed_ you, shouldn't I?"

"You know what? Screw you." Dean replied as Jeffrey put the knife in a jar containing some sort of liquid.

"Hey. I was there." Jeffrey sympathized. "I was depressed, Dean, because he was gone." He picked up the jar and stirred the contents with the knife. "I was a wreck, an emotional shell, a drunk. I was suicidal."

"I don't usually endorse suicide, but, man, what stopped you?" Dean asked.

"It was Alan," Jeffrey admitted as he set down the jar. "At the house."

"Seriously?" Angela asked, brows raised.

"He's a really good rehab therapist. Really helped me focus on my goals…" Jeffrey explained as he wiped the knife on a towel. "My attitude. I have to say, I really benefited from the whole program."

"Yeah." Dean scoffed.

"A life well-lived comes from the structured pursuit of meaningful happiness." Jeffrey walked towards Dean with the knife and a large bowl. "I realized I was nothing without my demon. Then I decided that I have to get him back." He explained. "I'll be right back." He turned away from the two hunters. "Hey, there, honey. Come on." He cooed at the dog. "It's a bitch of a recipe, I must admit."

The dog trotted after Jeffrey.

Angela frowned in realization. "No..."

Jeffrey walked out of sight and suddenly the dog whimpered loudly.

"Oh, you sick son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

The dog yelped and the plastic cone rolled into sight. Jeffrey placed the bowl on the coals, then added Dean's blood. He read a Latin invocation. The room shook and dust fell from the ceiling. Jeffrey raised his arms as he continued to chant. When he stopped, everything went still. Nora's son suddenly broke his chains and his eyes have turned black. He removed the tape from his mouth.

"Hello, Jeffrey." The demon greeted.

~/~\~

The demon got up from the chair. "Dean Winchester. Angela Morgan. As I live and breathe…Again." He smirked. The demon's eyes turned normal and he walked towards Jeffrey.

"Wh—wh..."

The demon embraced Jeffrey, who was confused.

"Oh!" Jeffrey exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm thanking you, Jeffrey." The demon replied as he waltzed around the room with Jeffrey in his arms.

"What are you doing with this half-dead piece of crap?" Jeffrey asked. "Come into me."

"We had a very special time together, didn't we, Jeffrey?" the demon recalled. "It warms my heart to see you haven't forgotten what I taught you. You built on it." He released Jeffrey and took hold of his jacket. "You captured a Winchester and Angela Morgan. You, Jeffrey…My pupil."

"I don't want to be your pupil. I want to be yours." Jeffrey pleaded.

The demon took a step back. "But I'm done with you. My work is finished. You can do everything now, all on your beautiful own."

"No," Jeffrey replied.

"No?" the demon asked.

Jeffrey shook his head. The demon backhanded him sharply across the face and Jeffrey fell down. The demon crouched down next to him.

"We don't do 'no'. Remember, Jeffrey?" the demon growled.

Dean worked the ropes binding him to the chair. The demon took a few steps towards him.

"Keep sawing away at your ropes, Penelope Pitstop." The demon snarled. "We can dance standing up if you want."

"So, is this what you do—find postal workers, make 'em go postal?" Dean asked.

"I talent scout." The demon corrected. "That's all. Looking for the next generation of surprises…Before they get to Hell, like Jeffrey here." He crouched down next to Jeffrey again and touched his chest. "He had all the raw material…just bubbling in there. All I had to do was loosen the lid on his jar, show him some practical know-how."

"Yeah, what about the kid?" Angela asked.

The demon stood up. "This one? I don't think. Not much to work with. No natural gift. I'll probably burn this meat off on my way to Vegas."

The demon turned and saw Sam, who hit him and continued to fight with him while Angela escaped from her ropes. She quickly untied Dean. The demon sent Sam flying across the room. Sam got to his feet and the demon started towards him, only to be brought up short: he had walked under a devil's trap painted on the ceiling.

"You've got to be kidding me!" the demon roared.

Nora walked up next to Sam. "You let go of my son!"

The demon laughed as Dean walked over to stand next to Nora, and Angela walked over to stand next to Sam. Sam wrapped an arm around Angela's waist and pulled her to him.

"Where do you keep coming from?" the demon asked.

Jeffrey picked up the knife and walked purposefully towards the demon. Dean shot Jeffrey twice and he dropped to the floor. The demon growled, unable to do anything.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus." Nora chanted.

The demon laughed. "He'll be back, you know. Back in black."

"Go to hell." Angela glared.

The demon groaned as Nora continued the exorcism.

"Omnis congregation et secta diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte, ecclesiam tuam, secura tibi facias liberate sevire, te rogamus, adui nos!" Nora chanted.

The demon dropped to his knees and black smoke poured from his mouth. Nora's son then fell back and Nora rushed to support him.

"Mom?"

"I got you. I got you, baby."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the motel room. Dean ran a hand over his face.

"God. Oh." Dean groaned as he lied face-down on his bed.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed he shared with Angela. Angela lied down on her side next to Sam.

"So, Jeffrey was just pretending to be the victim." Sam sighed. "Way back in that farmhouse during the exorcism…h-he was just…acting."

"He was a _psychopath,_ Sam," Dean replied. "That's what they do all the time, is act. Act like they're normal, act like they're not balls-to-the-wall crazy."

Angela took Sam's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "Dean's right, babe, I wouldn't overthink it if I were you." She added before yawning slightly.

Sam nodded. "You guys going to sleep?"

"Damn straight," Dean mumbled. "Screw consciousness—that's what I say."

Angela leaned up and kissed Sam's cheek before lying down again. "You should get some sleep too, babe." She suggested. "Love you, Sammy."

Sam smiled softly. "Love you, too, Angie." He replied as she fell asleep. Sam started to take off his jacket.

Lucifer appeared, leaning over next to Sam. "No, no, Sam. No nap for you, Sammy."

Sam frowned and kept his jacket on. He pressed on his left palm.

"Oh, come on, don't do that." Lucifer straightened up. "Let's talk, Sam. I always enjoyed our special little chats. Don't you want to talk?"

Sam just pressed harder on his left palm.

"Yeah, look at that," Lucifer smirked. "Something's definitely different now, isn't it? You let me in. You wanted me, partner. So, you think you can use your little tricks to banish me again…" he snapped his fingers. "Like that? No. I do believe I've got you, bunk buddy." He grinned as he wiggled an index finger. "Got my finger wiggling around in your brainpan."

Flames leaped up on the bed around Sam. He started to flinch and twitch. Lucifer just laughed evilly.

"Come on, Sammy! Come on! Say it with me now," Lucifer grinned. "Good morning, Vietnam!" he shouted before devolving into a fit of maniacal laughter.


	31. Out with the Old Part 1

Dean was on the phone with Frank. "So, Dick's funding an archaeological dig? Well, unless Dick's actually digging himself, I'm not sure I know what to do with that, Frank. Or the factory in Saudi Arabia, or the fishery in Jakarta. None of this is helping, Frank."

 _"Explain how Western to Southeast Asia is too wide a net."_ Frank's voice rang through. _"You know, I could be in Tromso right now. Zero Leviathan activity in Tromso."_

Dean's brows furrowed. "Where the hell is Tromso?"

 _"Norway, you moron,"_ Frank replied. _"By the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte."_

Dean sighed. "Yeah, well, we're not in Montana."

 _"Oh, you know where Butte is. That's encouraging."_ Frank replied. _"So, where are you?"_

"We're in Oregon."

 _"No. I got nothing in Oregon."_ Frank replied.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wisconsin, Frank."

_"What about it?"_

Dean sighed again. "The coordinates—Bobby's coordinates."

 _"Bobby…Oh!"_ Frank exclaimed. _"Right. Yeah, no. I got nothing. I got no activity."_

"Well, work on it." Dean snapped.

 _"Hey,"_ Frank stopped him. _"When did you become the boss of me? You don't like what I'm doing, you can stick it right up your Montana."_

"Alright, alright, alright. Take it easy, Frank." Dean replied.

 _"Oh, and another thing…"_ Frank said angrily before the line went dead, signaling that he hung up.

"Frank? Hello?" Dean asked. "Fr—

Sam and Angela walked up, hand-in-hand. Angela was carrying a newspaper while Same had a coffee in his free hand.

"He's a crazy son of a bitch." Dean shook his head.

"Frank?" Angela asked.

Dean nodded. "You know, having cranky total paranoid as your go-to guy—that's—it's…I don't know what it is." He ranted. Dean noticed the coffee in Sam's hand. "What are you going for, like, the Guinness record of caffeine consumption? That's like your fifth this morning."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, well, every time I close my eyes, Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him."

Dean's brows furrowed. "You know he's not actually…"

"Yeah. Yeah, no. I know." Sam nodded. "Uh, try telling that to the volume control inside my brain."

"Well, did you try the hand thing?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out."

Angela handed Dean the newspaper. "They're saying drugs, but read between the lines." She explained. "Sounds like she danced her own feet off. Might be our kind of thing."

"Dancers." Dean shook his head. "They are toe shoes full of crazy."

Sam tilted his head slightly. "You—and you would know this how?"

"I saw _Black Swan._ Twice." Dean smirked. "Hot tutu-on-tutu action? Come on, Sam. What's wrong with you."

"Wow." Angela giggled. "The depths of you—anyway, it's in Portland, a couple hours away. What do you think?"

"Yeah, dancers. Why not?" Dean shrugged. "Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way." He told Sam.

"Yeah, maybe," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the police station.

"So, the usual—no EMF, no sulfur, no hex junk," Sam noted.

"If there's no more dancers to interview on this trip, it could be a bust." Dean shrugged. "Although, I hear they have good coffee in Portland."

"Dude, that's Seattle." Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, let's just get the drill over with."

The Duty Officer behind the desk was talking to another officer. Dean cleared his throat while Sam raised a hand. The Duty Officer raised a hand in acknowledgment but continued to talk.

"Later." The officer said before leaving.

"Hi," Angela smiled.

The Duty Officer raised a brow. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Uh, we'd like to see the crime-scene photos from the Irina Koganzon case, please." Angela requested.

"And you would be…"

Angela pulled out her FBI badge and showed the man. "FBI, _sweetheart_."

The Duty Officer sighed. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time." Dean scoffed.

The Duty Officer came back and gave Angela the case file that contained a crime scene photo of Irina and the ballet shoes.

Dean leaned over to look at the photo. "Yeah, I'd call that weird."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the evidence room and flashed their badges.

"Hey, there." Sam greeted. "How you doing?"

"Okay." The officer shrugged. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, we need to see the shoes that were involved in the ballet dancer's death."

The man's brows furrowed. "Didn't figure that would be an FBI deal. But sure. Yeah, right here." He turned to see that the ballet shoes were gone. "Dammit, Tracy." He sighed.

"Who's Tracy?" Dean asked.

"My daughter. She loves ballet."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela burst into the ladies' room. Tracy was sitting on the floor wearing the ballet shoes.

"Hey, take those shoes off," Sam demanded.

Tracy was pulled to her feet by an invisible source, went up en pointe, and began to spin. Angela grabbed Tracy around her middle.

"Sam, we need to hold her down!" Angela exclaimed

Sam went and helped to keep Tracy still. "Dean, get the shoes!"

"I'm trying!" Dean replied.

Tracy's legs flailed as Dean tried to grab her feet. She kicked Dean in the head.

"Sorry!" Tracy apologized.

Dean managed to get one shoe off.

"Come on, Dean!" Angela yelled.

"I'm trying!"

Tracy kicked Dean in the head again. "Sorry!"

"I got it! I got it." Dean breathed heavily.

"Okay." Sam leaned back. "I'm going with cursed object."

"You think?" Dean scoffed.

Tracy was leaning against Angela. Angela looked down at the girl, her brows furrowed in concern.

"You okay, sweetie?" she asked gently.

~/~\~

The three hunters left the ladies' room. Sam was carrying the ballet shoes using a pen. A sticker in one of the shoes read _'$15.99 OUT WITH THE OLD'._

"Next stop—Out With The Old." Sam sighed. "I suppose it's too much to hope that these shoes are the only thing in that store that we have to worry about."

"Oh, what a dreamer you are," Dean replied as they left the station.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela pulled into a parking spot. Angela looked over and saw the ballet shoes on the seat next to her.

"Hey, guys," she frowned. "Didn't we put those in the trunk?"

Sam turned to look at the backseat. "H-how did they—

"Cursed object, Sam," Dean replied.

Sam frowned and looked at Dean's shoes, then back at the ballet shoes. "Do they…look like they're…your size?"

"Shut up," Dean replied.

"Wait, a-are you—

"Getting the strong urge to Prince Siegfried myself into oblivion?" Dean asked. "Yes."

"You really did see _Black Swan_ ," Angela muttered.

The three hunters got out of the car and crossed the street. Sam was holding the ballet shoes out in front of him. They opened the door to an antique store with a _'Going Out of Business Sale'_ sign on the door.

~/~\~

"Hello?" Angela called out as they walked into the store.

They walked further into the little shop and found Scott mopping the floor.

"Hey, did you sell these?" Sam held up the slippers.

"Uh, yeah." Scott shrugged.

"Where did you get them?" Angela pressed.

Scott's brows furrowed. "Uh, m-my m-mother had them in that box." He pointed.

Sam set the ballet shoes down on a display cabinet and went to get the box. It was made of wood and had symbols carved into the lid. Dean picked up the ballet shoes and appeared to be transfixed by them.

"I don't understand." Scott frowned. "What's happening?"

Sam held out the open box to Scott. "This, in here?"

Angela frowned when she noticed Dean holding the ballet shoes. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" she yelled, grabbing the shoes from him.

Sam quickly walked over to Dean and Angela, and Angela put the ballet shoes in the box that Sam was still holding.

"Geez!" Sam snapped at Dean. "You okay there, Baryshnikov?"

Dean paused and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm 'pas de done'."

"Okay, if it's not too much trouble, do you mind telling me, uh, what's—what's going on?" Scott interjected.

The three hunters flashed their FBI badges.

"What's your name?" Angela asked.

"Uh, Scott—uh, Scott Freeman."

"You said these were your mother's? Where'd she get them?" Sam pressed.

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. I found them in the back."

"I got it," Dean said before walking off.

"Now, where is your mother?" Angela interrogated.

"Well, she's, uh…" Scott trailed off. "She passed away last week."

Sam sighed deeply. "We're sorry to hear that. Scott, listen. These shoes…"

"Just some personal stuff she collected. I'm trying to get rid of it all."

Angela raised her brows. "All? Is there more like this?"

"Sam, Angie," Dean said as he walked into the room holding two empty boxes.

Sam sighed. "Scott, what was in those boxes?"

~/~\~

"Okay, what the hell kind of FBI agents are you?" Scott questioned.

"The kind that are trying to fix the mess you started." Dean retorted. "Now, where'd you mom get these?" he asked as he held up the boxes.

"I don't know." Scott shrugged. "I found them in her safe."

The three hunters turned and noticed a black safe with various sigils drawn on it. Sam clenched his jaw and looked at Scott.

"Did it ever occur to you that these things might be locked in that safe for a reason?" Sam asked.

"No, I-I just thought it was some of the junk she had collected over the years." Scott defended. "Like, I knew she was into some weird stuff, but I never thought that she would be, like—

"Yeah, well, think again, okay?" Dean snapped. "'Cause this 'junk' is killing people."

Scott scoffed. "What? Like, how can that be?"

"Look, Scott," Angela sighed. "We're gonna need to know exactly what you sold out of that safe and names and addresses of who you sold it to."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up to the house and got out of the car.

"Alright, what do we got?" Dean asked.

"She bought a tea kettle," Angela answered.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Tea kettle?"

"Yeah," Sam scoffed. "Hey, with enough mojo, you can turn a freaking pencil into a weapon of mass destruction."

"Good times," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the house and saw the kettle on the ground next to the woman's body. Her face was severely burned. Dean picked up some rubber gloves and wrapped the handle of the kettle with them before picking them up.

"Better call this in," Dean suggested.

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hello, yeah. I'd like to report an accident at 23 Gorham Road." He said. "My name? Uh…Bruce Hornsby."

~/~\~

"Alright," Dean started as they walked out of the house. "Who's next on the list."

Sam took a notebook out of his pocket. "We got a, uh, gramophone sold to Brenda Gluck, 413 River Street, and a vintage gentlemen's magazine to Peter Yankit, 27 Johnson Lane."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Alright, we'd better split up." Dean sighed. "Why don't you and Angie take the gramophone? I'll handle the old rag."

"I wouldn't really 'handle' it if I were you," Angela suggested. "Remember those shoes?"

"Yeah, how could I forget?" Dean asked as he put the kettle in the back seat of the car. "You know, I wonder how old porn kills you." He added as he handed the gloves to Sam.

"Pretty sure you don't want to know," Angela replied.

Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right. Alright. Let's do this."

"Yep." Sam sighed, taking Angela's hand in his.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were walking along the street. He ran a hand over his face tiredly and looked at his notebook.

Angela's brows furrowed in concern. "Sammy, are you okay?"

Sam looked at her and shrugged. "Yeah, just tired."

"You're more than tired, Sam," Angela replied. "You're exhausted…"

Sam sighed deeply. "Babe, I'll be fine." He assured.

Angela pursed her lips and decided to not press the conversation. They walked into Brenda's house just in time. Timmy was about to strike his mother with a large knife as Sam and Angela burst in. Sam grabbed Timmy's arm and took the knife. Brenda screamed loudly when she turned and saw what was happening.

"Where's the gramophone?" Angela asked frantically.

Brenda pointed to the room. Sam and Angela walked over to the gramophone. Angela took the gloves from Sam's jacket pocket and put one on.

"Hey. That's mine." Timmy complained.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the kid slightly. "Kid, this would be a really good time for a lesson in gratitude. Lucky for you, I'm too tired."

Timmy gave Sam a weirded out look and walked away. Sam's phone rang and he quickly answered it as Angela picked up the gramophone with her gloved hand.

"Hey," Sam greeted.

"Hey. Got the porn. Just in time, too." Dean's voice rang through.

Sam's brows furrowed. "What was he doing?"

"Uh, like you said, you don't want to know. Where you guys at?"

"We just got the gramophone," Sam replied. "We're across town. We'll head your way." He added before hanging up.

~/~\~

Dean was at the antique store putting a wooden box into the safe.

"So, my mom wasn't just some whack job. All this stuff is real?" Scott asked.

"Yep," Dean replied.

"Well, now I-I really feel like crap."

Dean's brows furrowed curiously. "How come?"

"I kept pushing her to sell the store." Scott sighed. "She kept saying no, and I kept pushing her, you know, telling her how much money she'd make."

"You think you changed her mind?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Scott shrugged. "You know, this real-estate lady kept coming around, and the one day, just like that, mom says okay. Then she had that accident, never even got to enjoy the money."

Dean's frown deepened. "How soon after?"

"The next day."

"The n—How did she die?" Dean asked.

"Car crash," Scott replied. "You know, I keep thinking, if I hadn't pushed her, then…"

"Hey, a little tip. Uh, feeling guilty ain't gonna bring 'em back." Dean replied. "Best you can do is live your life the way that you think would make her proud. Or at least not embarrass the crap out of her."

Scott smiled and nodded.

Dean started to walk away but stopped. "Oh, uh…you know the drill, right? Don't touch anything in those boxes. In fact, don't even go near the safe. Once we get it all boxed up, we'll get a U-Haul and get everything out of here."

"Believe me, I—I got it," Scott assured.

~/~\~

Dean left the antique store. He noticed the Bicklebee Realty _'SOLD'_ sign in the window. He walked along the street and frowned when he noticed most of the other shops had the same sign in their windows.


	32. Out with the Old Part 2

Sam was driving a pick-up truck and Angela sat in the passenger's seat.

"Sam, I really think you should pull over and let me drive." Angela sighed.

"Babe, I'm fine," Sam assured. A few moments later he yawned, disproving his statement.

Angela rolled her eyes. "We're gonna get into a wreck!"

Before Sam could reply, his phone started ringing. He pulled out his phone and Angela immediately took it, answering it for him.

"There's no way you're talking on the phone while driving this exhausted, Sam." She shook her head. "Hey, Dean, what's up? We're on our way."

 _"Yeah, not sure we're taking the safe out of town just yet."_ Dean's voice rang through. _"Um, so, it turns out that mama hoarder didn't just die and leave the store to Scott."_

"She didn't?" Angela frowned.

 _"No, listen to this,"_ Dean replied. _"The lady spends 40 years trying to keep that place, right? Then one day she wakes up and sells. Next day, drives her car off a cliff."_

Sam yawned again and Angela shot him a worried glance.

"So, uh…What, you think somebody cut her brakes or something?" Angela asked.

 _"No, I think the world is full of hilarious coincidences."_ Dean sassed. _"Oh, and there's this new company—never even tasted real estate…just gobbled up a huge chunk of Main Street. Now, I could be off the deep end here, but doesn't that seem weird to you?"_

"Yeah, definitely, we should check it out." Angela agreed before she hung up.

~/~\~

Dean clicked on _'Corporate Contact'_ on the Bicklebee Realty web page. A message popped up reading 'We're sorry, the site you are trying to access has been blocked'."

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. He pulled out his phone and called Frank.

 _"This better be good."_ Frank's voice rang through.

"Frank, hey, I don't mean to double-dip in your crazy sauce," Dean replied. "No offense."

_"None taken, fudge pop."_

"But I think I found something." Dean sighed. He frowned when he got no response.

 _"My silence is your cue, Dean,"_ Frank said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, so there's this new company that's buying up a whole bunch of, uh, mom-'n'-pops in Portland, but I hit a firewall when I tried to access its site. Think you can crack it?"

 _"Can a dog play poker?"_ Frank retorted.

Dean's brows furrowed. "I don't…"

_"The answer is yes. What's the company name?"_

"Uh, Geothrive, Inc," Dean replied.

~/~\~

Sam was driving while clearly very sleepy. He almost overshot a bend, blinked several times, then nodded off. A large truck was coming towards Sam and Angela. Angela looked up when the truck driver honked the horn. Angela quickly grabbed the wheel and swerved out of the way before they could collide with the truck. Sam jolted awake when he felt the car swerving.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked up to the barista.

"I am driving the rest of the way," Angela grumbled.

"Can I get a, uh, a-a triple red-eye, please?" Sam asked the barista. "Babe, I-I'm sorry, you were right," Sam told Angela.

The barista looked at Sam. "It's your funeral."

George turned and looked at Sam, then hurried away.

~/~\~

Dean was looking at a pie in a display container while he talked on the phone. "Frank, tell me you got something."

 _"No, I'm calling with the Lakers-Celtics score,"_ Frank replied sarcastically.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What?"

 _"'Course I got something,"_ Frank replied. _"I figured out why you hit that firewall."_

Dean walked back to his table. "My silence is your cue, Frank."

 _"Oh, touché,"_ Frank chuckled. _"So, you were trying to access the Geothrive internal site, and the reason why you couldn't is 'cause, if you dig down deep, it's all Dick."_

"Yeah, well, that'd be helpful if you didn't say that about everything." Dean sighed.

_"Yeah, except I'm operating on hard fact now, wise-ass."_

"So, you're telling me that Geothrive is part of Roman, Inc.?"

_"It's a conglomerate within a subsidiary within a conglomerate. It's all tied together, Dean."_

Dean sighed again. "So, what, Leviathans are—are Walmart-ing mom-'n'-pops?"

 _"And bingo was his name-o."_ Frank praised.

"So, we've got a big ol' field in Wisconsin and a bunch of friggin' shops in Portland?" Dean asked. "What the hell are they up to?"

Angela pulled up and parked outside of the café. Sam got out of the passenger's seat.

 _"Beats me,"_ Frank replied. _"All I know is it's corporate and smelly as the day is long. If I were you, I'd get the hell out of Dodge, pronto."_

"People are dying here, Frank."

 _"Sure, every second."_ Frank scoffed. _"Check the obesity stats. That town ain't nothin' special."_

"Well, we're not done here, okay, and, hey, we might get some answers," Dean argued.

_"Fine. Call me if you don't die."_

Sam and Angela joined Dean at the table as he put his phone away.

"So?" Sam asked.

"Well, that'll work." He nodded to Sam's drink.

"How's it going?" Angela asked.

"I just got off the phone with Frank," Dean started. "Apparently, we have a bit of a Leviathan issue in this town."

Sam frowned deeply. "Leviathans, here?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "We're lookin' at a big, old giant nesting doll of Dick, as far as property sales go."

Sam looked away and sighed. Dean frowned.

"Hey, you hearing me?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm sorry." Sam mumbled.

"Okay, you know what?" Dean sighed. "Enough with the insomnia crap. Alright, Pacino? You need to crash. I'll keep working. Angie, can you take him to a motel, so he can get some sleep?"

"It doesn't matter what I do," Sam sighed. "Lucifer will not shut up."

"Even now?" Angela asked gently.

"He's singing _'Stairway to Heaven'_ right now," Sam replied.

"Good song." Dean shrugged.

"Not 50 times in a row." Sam deadpanned.

"Hmm." Dean hummed.

Sam's phone rang. "Hey, Scott."

 _"Please, Sam,"_ Scott said frantically. _"Y-you got to help me."_

Sam frowned. "What's happening?"

_"I looked in one of my mom's old mirrors, and now I want to rip my face off! I think it was cursed!"_

Sam sighed. "Alright, hold tight. Uh, we're on our way." He replied before he hung up.

"Let me guess," Dean sighed. "He touched something he was not supposed to."

"'Course he did." Sam rolled his eyes.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up outside of the store in the pick-up, with the U-Haul attached. Angela was driving. The three hunters got out of the truck and hurried inside.

"So much for the cursed mirror," Dean noted when he saw Joyce and George.

"Sam, Dean, and Angela," Joyce grinned. "It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintances. Now, just so you can put names to the faces that'll be eating you, I'm Joyce, and this is my assistant, George."

"Oh, you're the—you're the lady from the real-estate signs," Dean noted.

"Yes. You like my photo?" Joyce grinned.

"Oh, you might want to lay off the whitening strips," Dean suggested.

Joyce chuckled. "Oh, Dean. I am gonna enjoy picking you out of my teeth."

Joyce's face transformed. She grabbed Dean and threw him into a glass cabinet. George threw Sam and Angela over a desk. Sam punched George and Dean hit Joyce with an urn. George grabbed Sam and Angela around the throat.

"There's a bucket of that stuff that you love throwing at us right there," George instructed. "Dunk me, before she sees."

Joyce threw Dean onto a table, causing it to break. Sam dunked George's head in the bucket. Joyce looked disgusted. George lifted his head, his face burning.

"The sword." He said.

Joyce threw Dean through some glass doors.

"The sword!" George yelled.

Angela broke a display cabinet holding a sword. As Joyce advanced on Dean, Angela used the sword to cut off her head.

"Thanks." Dean breathed. He got up and put Joyce's head in a bag and put the bag in the safe.

"Okay, I get that these things mean business, you know, but I can't just, like, uproot my life," Scott commented.

"Sure you can. It's not as hard as you think." Dean replied.

"Look, Scott." Sam sighed. "These big mouths don't like to have loose ends."

"So, don't you look back till you get someplace where you don't speak the language," Angela instructed.

"Alright. I'm going. Thank you, I guess." Scott replied as he left the store.

"Don't mention it," Sam replied. He turned to George. "One minute. That's how long you have to explain to us why you helped us."

"Because I am dying to know what the bitch tastes like," George smirked.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Wait, let me get this straight. You want to _eat_ your boss?"

"You got a better way to make her stay dead?" George raised a brow.

"So, what? So now you're—you're on our side or something?" Angela asked skeptically.

"Yeah. No." George shook his head. "But if Joyce is alive, then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes. Or worse, I get eaten. Or bibbed. So, thanks…for chopping her head off for me. Taking her on solo—yikes. So, really, thanks for the assist there." He added. "And of course," he looked at Dean. "You're welcome…for saving you…before she ripped into your ass like a Christmas present. Win-win, right? So how 'bout that head?"

"Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie." Dean glared.

Angela held the sword to George's throat.

"Now…what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin?" Dean asked.

George sighed. "I don't know! I barely know where Wisconsin is. I'm a West-Coast representative."

"You gonna keep killing people who don't sign on the dotted line?" Angela asked.

"Alright, take it easy," George replied. He touched the sword and tasted the blood it left on his finger. "Mmm. Killing people isn't part of the agenda. Joyce just kept getting impatient. You—you got nothing to worry about with me. Don't you get it? You guys are freaking out about the wrong thing."

"Oh, you think?" Dean scoffed.

"A couple of real-estate deals? Come on." George rolled his eyes. "Big picture, guys. You—you think it's just here? It's everywhere. And it's a lot more ambitious than this little project. My advice—keep your heads down and stay down."

"Listen to me, you gooey son of a bitch," Dean snarled. "You're gonna tell us what you're building here, or I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap."

"Hmm. I was hoping we could play nice." George muttered. "But if you must know…It's going to be a research center."

"Research for what?" Dean asked.

"Disease. This is where we are going to _cure_ cancer." George replied.

"Wait," Sam frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would Dick Roman want to cure cancer?"

George smiled. "'Cause we're only here to help."

~/~\~

Dean closed the U-Haul after putting the safe inside. "Monsters cure cancer. A sentence I never thought I'd say. Why does it make me so nervous?"

Sam had his arm wrapped around Angela's waist. "Yeah, I hear you." He sighed. "So, what do we do now?"

"You are gonna sleep on it—all the way to Frank's," Angela instructed.

"I wish I could, babe." Sam sighed tiredly.

Dean frowned. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Yeah. A little. I-I don't know."

"Well, we'll find you a soft-rock station," Dean replied. "Always knocks you right out."

The three hunters got into the pick-up and drove away.

~/~\~

They pulled up outside of Frank's trailer and got out.

"Hey, Frank!" Dean pounded on the door. "Devereaux!" he yelled. Dean frowned when there was still no answer. "What the hell is he doing in there?" he muttered. "Frank! Don't shoot! We're coming in!"

The three hunters walked into the trailer and frowned at the sight. There was blood and broken glass everywhere. The trailer had been trashed and there was blood all over the walls and computer screens.

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Not good." He breathed.


	33. The Born-Again Identity Part 1

Sam was breathing heavily as he ran slowly along the railway track. Sam left the track and accidentally bumped into a man walking alongside it.

"Hey! Dick!" the man yelled.

Sam stopped and turned for a brief moment before he started to run again. He went through a gate and walked along a heavily-graffitied alleyway. A woman was buying drugs from a man. The woman left and Sam walked closer to the dealer.

"Dude," the dealer frowned. "Get the hell away from me."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. He looked exhausted.

"You speak friggin' English?" the dealer asked. "Go away!"

"It's okay. No one's after me." Sam mumbled.

The dealer's brows furrowed. "Why are you running up in here like that?"

"Just…Just leave me alone." Sam slid down to the ground with his back against a post.

"What the hell did you take, anyway?"

"Nothing," Sam mumbled.

"Shut up." The dealer scoffed.

"No, he's telling the truth," Lucifer smirked at Sam. "Burned through that last beer hours ago. Right around the time Dean passed out and Angie went to bed. Come on Sam. Tell the nice tweaker. You'd be sleeping by now if the devil would just leave you alone for five seconds. Stupid Satan. Chasing you all the way to…Where the hell are we?"

Sam held his face in his hands. "Gah! I just need some rest."

"Hey. Sam. Try the hand scar." Lucifer grinned.

Sam groaned.

"How many days you been up, anyway?" the dealer asked.

"Four," Lucifer said. "Oh. Wait." He looked at his watch. "Scratch that. _Five._ "

Sam got to his feet and started to walk away.

"Hey, hold up! Wait! Hold up!" the dealer called out.

Sam stopped and turned around.

"You want to knock out?" the dealer smirked. "I can knock you out."

~/~\~

Sam and the dealer were asleep in the front seats of a car. Something shattered the windshield, spraying glass over Sam. Sam got out of the car quickly. A bar was protruding through the shattered windshield, but when Sam looked again, it was intact. Lucifer appeared behind Sam.

"Good morning to you, good morning to you…" Lucifer sang, complete with hand motions.

Sam quickly walked away.

"Our day is beginning, so good morning to you!" Lucifer sang. "I thought you liked my singing!" he yelled after Sam.

~/~\~

Lucifer was walking behind Sam, who was breathing heavily and blinking rapidly.

"Pills? You do get that you're just bringing free drugs to the party, right?" Lucifer asked. "I am _inside you,_ Sam. Hey. Sam. What's the longest a normal human being has gone without sleep?" he asked. "11 days." He chuckled. "You always said you wanted to be normal, Sam!"

Sam started running away.

"If you are, you'll be dead in a week!" Lucifer laughed.

Sam ran in front of a car, which hit him and sent him up onto the windshield, over the car, and to the ground.

~/~\~

A doctor was working at his desk when Dean and Angela barged in, followed by a nurse.

"Excuse me, you two can't just barge in here without an appointment!" the nurse exclaimed.

"They said, 'Talk to Kadinsky'," Dean replied. "You Kadinsky?" he nodded at the man.

"You need to be scheduled!" the nurse exclaimed.

"Well, then, schedule us!" Angela snapped. "He was in a car crash. Why the hell can't we see him?!"

Dr. Kadinsky sighed. "You're Sam Smith's fiancée," he noted. "And you must be his brother." He looked at Dean.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Dean asked.

"It—it's fine." Dr. Kadinsky told the nurse. "Thank you. Really."

The nurse sighed and left. Dr. Kadinsky looked back at Dean and Angela.

"Sam was admitted. He was treated for a broken rib and lacerations."

"Okay," Dean shrugged. "That's not too bad. And?"

Dr. Kadinsky sighed. "And…he's on our locked psychiatric floor."

Dean looked surprised and Angela's eyes widened in concern.

"H-He's had some trouble, but…" Angela murmured.

"So you're both aware that Sam is experiencing a full-blown psychotic break?" Dr. Kadinsky asked.

"Psychotic?" Dean asked. "Come on. I mean, the guy's…It's not like the guy's freakin' Norman Bates!"

"No, I'm sure he isn't." Dr. Kadinsky agreed. "We need to determine whether his state was brought on by the insomnia or whether the insomnia is a symptom of his condition. Do you understand? So, that we can figure out how to treat him."

"Well, uh, the sleep thing is kind of new," Angela replied.

"Right." Dr. Kadinsky nodded. "Well…We've pumped him about as full of sedatives as we safely can. So far, he won't go under. I've never seen anything like it."

~/~\~

Lucifer sat on a desk in Sam's hospital room, playing with a piece of string. Sam was on the bed, dressed in a white T-shirt and white hospital pants.

"I'm just sayin'," Lucifer started. "Back when you had no soul…you never had to sleep."

Dr. Kadinsky, Angela, and Dean appeared at the door. Dean and Angela entered the room quietly. Angela immediately went and sat on the bed next to Sam.

"Hi, baby," Angela murmured, kissing him gently on the cheek.

"Aw, how sweet." Lucifer cooed with a smirk.

"How are you feeling?" Angela asked.

"Maybe you should cancel my UFC fight." Sam joked.

"Yeah. Keep that sense of humor, Sam. It'll get you through this." Lucifer said with a sarcastic edge to his voice.

Dean sat down on the end of Sam's bed. "Sam, we're gonna find you help."

Sam exhaled and looked away.

"Now, that sounded a little cynical," Lucifer noted.

"I don't think it's out there." Sam sighed.

"We don't know that." Dean countered.

"We know better than most. It's all snake oil." Sam shrugged. "Dean, the last time you and I saw a faith healer, he had a reaper on a leash. Remember?"

Dean stood up and sighed. "Yeah, Sam, I remember."

"I'm just saying…" Sam muttered.

"What? That you don't want our help?" Dean asked, brows furrowed.

"No, I'm just saying…don't do this to yourselves," Sam replied.

Angela shook her head. "Sammy, if we don't find something—

"Then I'll die." Sam murmured.

Angela quickly blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. She couldn't bear losing Sam…not again.

"Oh, you're upsetting me." Lucifer pouted.

"We knew this was coming." Sam sighed.

"No." Dean shook his head.

"When you put my soul back…"

"No," Dean repeated.

"Cas warned you about all the crap it would—

Angela shot up and clenched her jaw. "Screw Cas!" she snapped angrily. "He's the one who broke the damn wall in your head! He caused all of this!"

Sam and Dean just looked at Angela, slightly shocked at the outburst. They knew she could get angry—but usually, she kept herself fairly level-headed.

"Angie, this is what happens when you throw a soul into Lucifer's dog bowl," Sam whispered. "And you think there's just gonna be some cure out there?"

Angela sniffled slightly, and Dean walked towards her.

"Oh, you guys are having a moment." Lucifer cooed.

"Kid, let's go," Dean whispered.

Angela shook her head. "No. No, I'm not leaving Sam."

"Baby, you gotta…" Sam sighed.

Dean gently grabbed Angela's hand and led her out of the room.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were looking through a journal at the house. Dean was talking on the phone.

"I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's. I'm looking for some info. If you could, uh, call me back. 785-555-0128. Thanks."

Dean hung up after he left the message and crossed a name off a list.

~/~\~

The nurse was taking Sam's blood pressure and temperature as Lucifer looked on.

~/~\~

"Oh, well, I am so sorry to have bothered you," Angela said, sarcasm evident in her voice. She hung up angrily and crossed another name off of the list.

~/~\~

Lucifer was reading from a large book. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Lucifer.

"Narcissistic personality disorder. Okay, now, this one I could have." Lucifer admitted.

The Nurse walked into Sam's room. "Time for meds, Sam."

"Sets unrealistic goals. Check." Lucifer continued. "But trouble keeping healthy relationships? Not so sure about that one. Thoughts?"

~/~\~

"Yeah. Thanks." Dean sighed before hanging up.

Dean crossed out another name, closed the journal, and picked up a smaller journal. He tossed said journal onto a table as he walked to the fridge. As he took out two beer cans, the journal fell to the ground. Dean turned to look at Angela who just shrugged. She went and picked up the journal, revealing a business card for _Mackey's Taxidermy_. She picked up the card and flipped it over, noticing a cell phone number.

Dean dialed the number and waited. "Yeah, hi. Uh…my name's Dean. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's. I'm, uh, looking for some info. If you could call me back at 785-555-0128. Thanks."

~/~\~

Sam sat on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed. Dr. Kadinsky entered the room.

"Sam, how are we feeling today? Rib pain—scale of 1 to 10?"

Sam opened his eyes. "It's—it's not bad. Um," he cleared his throat. "Three."

"You don't have to lie, Sam." Dr. Kadinsky replied.

Sam frowned. "I'm—I'm not."

"You've suffered terrible agony. I mean, your 10 must be astronomical."

"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "I-I guess I have a high threshold."

"Yeah. But the worst part is knowing that there's always a new 10." Dr. Kadinsky replied.

Sam's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm talking about the truly elegant torture I have prepared for you today…" Dr. Kadinsky said as he morphed into Lucifer. "Sam."

Sam got up and turned away from Lucifer. "Just stay the hell away from me!"

"But it's—it's so nice chatting. Sam, I hate these one-sided conversations. Come on, buddy." Lucifer raised his fists. "Engage. Sam? You…me…locked ward. Is it me, or is this just like the Cage?"

~/~\~

Sam sat on the bed, yawning as an orderly brought him a tray. Sam picked up a plate holding a sandwich and sat down on the bed again. He took a bite, then looked down at the sandwich, and saw that it was crawling with maggots. Sam dropped the sandwich to the floor and moved further up the bed. A girl wearing white hospital clothes with a bandage on her neck was watching from the doorway.

~/~\~

Dean was doing a search on the laptop while Angela continued looking through the journals. Dean's phone rang and he put it on speaker.

"This is Dean." He greeted.

 _"Mackey."_ The man replied. _"Calling you back. Hey. Real sorry about Bobby."_

"Yeah, us too," Angela replied.

 _"Look, I-I might have something for you guys."_ Mackey started. _"There's this guy. He goes by Emmanuel. He kind of roams. First started hearing about him a couple of months back. How he was healing the sick, curing the crazy."_

"Uh-huh," Dean replied.

 _"Naturally, I think something in the milk ain't clean."_ Mackey continued. _"Find this sucker, punch his clock. Right?"_

"Right." Dean agreed.

 _"Heard the best way to get to him is through his wife, Daphne, out in Colorado? So, I go."_ Mackey explained. _"Tell her I'm going blind. It's true. My right eye's burnt out. She says, 'Go home. He'll come'. So, I go. I set every trap, every test in the book."_

"That's what we would've done," Angel replied.

 _"Emmanuel shows,"_ Mackey replied. _"He passes every one. There ain't nothing weird about this guy. Except…he's the real deal."_

Dean's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

_"He touched me, and my eye was fixed. Look—I don't believe in much that don't suck your blood. But I wouldn't call you on a maybe."_

~/~\~

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, covering his ears and facing away from Lucifer, who was talking through a loudspeaker.

"Oh, my head hurts. Make it stop!" Lucifer mocked.

"Hello?"

Sam turned and saw the girl from earlier. She held out a chocolate bar to him.

"You want this or not?" the girl asked. "I saw you yesterday."

Sam took the chocolate bar.

"You didn't look too happy with your in-flight meal."

"Thanks. Uh…" Sam trailed off.

"Marin." She smiled slightly. "No problem. Sam. Right?"

The loudspeaker blared and Sam winced.

"I'm Sam," Lucifer said through the loudspeaker.

Sam covered his face and Marin left.

"Hello, Sam. Hi." Lucifer grinned.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela walked up to the front door. Angela knocked, a few moments later a man opened the door.

"Hi," Angela greeted. "Uh, is this, uh, Daphne Allen's house? We're looking for Emmanuel."

"Well, you found him." The man smiled. "Daphne's resting. If you don't mind."

Dean nodded. "Oh, yeah, sure."

Emmanuel stepped outside and closed the door.

"Um…So, we were hoping, uh…" Angela trailed off when she looked through the window and saw a woman bound and gagged.

Dean followed her gaze and frowned. The two hunters looked back at Emmanuel, whose eyes turned black. The demon grabbed Dean and Angela, throwing them against the door.

"You were saying, Angela?" the demon smirked.

"You know, I'd think twice," Dean suggested. "Or don't you know that your boss issued a hands-off memo?"

The demon laughed. "Please. What have you done for him lately? Roman's head on a plate? No? Whatever Emmanuel is, Crowley's gonna want him—a lot more than he wants you these days. So…"

The demon started towards Dean and Angela. Dean stabbed the demon with his knife. The demon yelled and a light flashed from his eyes and mouth as he died. Dean pushed the demon down the stairs as he withdrew his knife. A man was standing at the bottom of the stairs. Dean and Angela stared at the man with wide eyes.

"Is that…?" Angela whispered to Dean.

"Cas's vessel? Yeah." He murmured back.

Emmanuel stared at the dead demon, then looked at the hunters. "What was that?"

~/~\~

Emmanuel was removing the gag and ropes that bound Daphne. "That creature hurt you."

"I'm okay," Daphne assured. "But, Emmanuel…They were looking for you."

"It's okay." He assured. Emmanuel looked at Dean and Angela. "I'm Emmanuel." He introduced, holding out his hand.

"Dean. I'm…Dean." He replied, shaking Emmanuel's hand.

"I'm Angela." She smiled softly, shaking his hand as well.

"Thank you for protecting my wife," Emmanuel said sincerely.

"Your wife. Right." Dean nodded.

"I saw his face," Emmanuel noted. "His real face."

"He was a demon," Angela replied.

Emmanuel looked shocked. "A demon walked the Earth."

" _Demons,_ " Dean stressed. "Whackloads of them. You don't know about…?"

"You saw the demon's true face," Daphne told Emmanuel. She looked at Dean and Angela. "Emmanuel has very special gifts."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "W-we've heard that about…Emmanuel. That you can heal people up."

Emmanuel nodded. "I seem able to help to a certain degree. What's your issue?"

"My fiancé," Angela replied. "Dean's brother."

~/~\~

Sam was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. A firecracker popped, and Sam flinched. _'Wake Up Little Susie'_ by the Everly Brothers played loudly on the radio. Lucifer lit another firecracker and tossed it to the floor.

"You know, you're actually keeping it together better than I thought." Lucifer praised. "Kind of…the way someone pinned under a bus keeps it together."

"None of this is real," Sam mumbled.

Lucifer smirked. "And yet…You know what really sucks?" he asked, tossing another firecracker. "It doesn't really matter." He added, turning off the music. "Because I won. Your madness won. I mean, look at you. It's hard to believe you were the guy that saved the world once."

An orderly, Marcus, brought in a tray of food.

"Mmm! Sammy." Lucifer grinned. "What'll it be today? Maggots again…Or, uh, tapeworm?"

"Thanks," Sam told the orderly.

"Yeah, no problem," Marcus replied. "How you doing?"

"Uh…little better." Sam shrugged. "That girl, uh, Marin…"

"Look, I'm not really supposed to talk about it," Marcus replied. "Let's just say, unlike you, she didn't get here 'cause of no accident."

Sam lied back down on the bed as Marcus left. Lucifer lit another firecracker and laughed as Sam flinched.

~/~\~

Dean was driving with Angela in the passenger seat and Emmanuel in the backseat.

"So, Daphne—is that, uh, your wife?" Dean asked.

"She found me and cared for me," Emmanuel replied.

"Meaning?" Angela asked.

"Oh, it's a…strange story," Emmanuel replied bashfully. "You may not like it."

"Believe me, we will," Dean assured.

Emmanuel sighed. "A few months ago, she was hiking by the river, and I wandered into her path, drenched and confused, and…unclothed." He explained. "I had no memory. She said…God wanted her to find me."

"So, who named you Emmanuel?" Angela asked curiously.

"Bouncy baby names...It's a website," Emmanuel replied.

Dean paused. "Well, it's working for you. Must be weird not knowing who you are."

"Well, it's my life. And it's a good life."

"Yeah, well, what if you were some kind of…I don't know…bad guy?" Dean asked.

Emmanuel frowned. "Oh, I…don't feel like a bad person."

~/~\~

Sam got up from the bed and stood at the window in his room.

"Man, you must be really determined to wait out nap time," Marin said from the doorway. She held up a chocolate bar. "Here," she tossed it onto the bed and turned to leave.

"Wait," Sam turned around. "Uh…Share this with me."

"Thanks," Marin replied, walking into the room. "I don't know why I'm thanking you for a candy bar I stole."

Sam tried to tear open the wrapper but couldn't. He sighed and looked at Marin. "So, how long you been here?"

"Five weeks and counting. Going for the record."

"How come?" Sam asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter." Marin shook her head.

"That's a lot of bandages for 'it doesn't matter'." Sam countered.

"You want the doctor's answer?" Marin raised a brow. "I'm psychotically depressed to a suicidal ideation."

"And the not-Doctor answer?"

"I feel like crap. I just…want it to be over." Marin shrugged.

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Everything." She replied. "Come on. Tell me I'm young and have everything to live for."

Sam chuckled. "Why would you believe me?"

"True." She nodded. "I heard you're in here because the voices won't let you sleep."

"Just one, really." Sam corrected.

"Who is it? Like Charlie Manson or the devil?"

"Kind of. Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Me too. I…hear a voice." Marin admitted.

"Is that why you set the fire?" Sam asked.

Marin looked taken aback. "Who told you that?"

"No one," Sam assured. "The—they're burns, right?"

"I didn't set the fire, o—he did!" Marin exclaimed. "You know what? I don't even know why I'm talking."

"Marin, it's okay," Sam assured gently.

"No, it's not!" she yelled. "You are crazier than I am! Charles Manson tells you what to do. At least it's my own brother—

Sam's brows furrowed. "It's your brother?"

"Yes," Marin sighed. "It sucks…when it's your dead brother saying…kill yourself to be with him…or he'll do it for you."

~/~\~

Emmanuel leaned forward slightly and looked at Angela. "So, your fiancé…"

"Sam," she murmured.

"Sam." He nodded. "What's his diagnosis?"

"Well, it's not exactly medical." Dean cut in.

"That should be fine," Emmanuel assured. "I can cure illness of a spiritual origin."

"Spiritual?" Angela's brows furrowed. "Okay. Someone did this to him."

Emmanuel studied Angela. "You're angry." He replied. "You both are." He added, looking at Dean.

"Well, yeah." Dean scoffed. "Dude broke my brother's head."

"He betrayed you, this dude. He was your friend?" Emmanuel asked.

"Yeah, well, he's gone," Angela muttered.

"Did you kill him?" Emmanuel asked. "I sense that you two kill a lot of people."

"Honestly, we, uh, don't know if he is dead," Dean replied. "We just know that this…whole thing couldn't be messier. You know, I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. You know, whatever it was. It might take some time, but…I always could." He explained. "What Cas did…I just can't—I don't know why."

"Well, it doesn't matter why." Emmanuel shrugged.

"Of course it matters," Dean argued.

"No," Emmanuel replied. "You're not a machine, Dean. Neither of you are. You two are human." He stressed. "Your friend's name was Cas? That's an odd name."

~/~\~

Dean parked the car and turned to Angela. "Do you mind staying here and keeping an eye on him?"

"That's fine," Angela assured with a small smile.

Dean nodded and got out. "Sit tight, kid."

~/~\~

Dean walked into the convenience store and walked down one of the aisles. He took out his phone and heard the door open. Dean looked up at a mirror to see a man walking towards him. He took out his knife. The man shoved Dean into a wall and Dean pushed the man into a fridge, shattering its glass door. As the man stood up, Dean stabbed him with his knife. Light flashed from the man's face as he died. Dean picked up his phone, which was now smashed.

"Oh, come on," Dean muttered.

Dean walked to the next aisle of the store and found two more demons waiting for him. He raised his knife and swung at one of them, but the demon blocked his arm and the knife went flying to the floor. Dean punched the demon and it threw him into some shelves. While Dean was still on the floor, someone stabbed the demon from behind. Black smoke poured from the second demon's mouth as it left the body it was possessing.

"Angie…" Dean started.

The first demon fell to the ground, revealing Meg.

"Not quite, Dean-o," Meg smirked.

"Meg." Dean glared.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," she shook her head. "You got some 'splainin' to do."


	34. The Born-Again Identity Part 2

Dean turned the sign on the door around, so it read _'Closed'_ and pulled down the blind.

"Rumors are really starting to fly about this Emmanuel fellow," Meg noted. "My curiosity sure got revved up."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what you want, Meg."

"Imagine my surprise when I track him down, and he's snuggled up with you and Angie," Meg replied. "And he's the spitting image of poor, dead Castiel. So, Dean, what's poor, dead Castiel doing in that junker out there?"

"Christmas caroling." Dean sassed.

"Fun," Meg nodded. "But how's he alive? Last I heard, he played God, went poof."

"We don't know," Dean replied. "And neither does he, so you got to keep it shut."

"Oh, I do?" Meg raised a brow.

"He doesn't know he's Cas," Dean stressed.

"I know," Meg replied. "Been watching you for hours. So, here's the deal. You might remember Crowley and I were frosty back in the day? Well, times haven't changed."

"Good," Dean replied shortly.

Meg glared. "That hurts my feelings. I've been good to you, Dean."

"No, you've been good to you, sweetheart," Dean replied.

"Look. Right now…" Meg started as Dean took some items from the shelves. "Rumors of this wandering healer are strictly low-level. But body count's getting high enough to change that. Folks start poking, they sniff angel dust."

"Yeah, they start falling all over each other trying to tell Crowley," Dean replied.

"Now, picture Crowley with his hands on harmless little amnesia-Cas," Meg started. "Don't get me wrong. I'm gonna burn that smarmy dick. My time's coming. But right about now, my army-of-one situation is not cutting it. It's cold out here, there's a price on my ass, and I need friends."

"Yeah. I get that." Dean nodded. "But we aren't it."

"That's where you're wrong, Dean. 'Cause I'm here to help you, and that makes us friends."

"Help, huh?" Dean scoffed. "You mean to see if you can't turn harmless little Cas out there into an angel-sized weapon?"

"Like you're taking him caroling." Meg countered. "Hey, I don't trust you guys either. But I could really use Emmanuel. And he trusts you and Angie. So, for now, it's in everyone's best interests to hold hands and cross the street together, okay?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "We go straight to Sam. No detours."

"I love it," Meg replied.

"And one more thing." Dean narrowed his eyes. "My knife."

Meg held up the bloody knife and Dean took it.

"You sure we wouldn't be safer with a full-throttle angel?" Meg asked. "I could jog his memory." She suggested. Meg rolled her eyes at Dean's expression. "Kidding! We wouldn't want to upset the poor guy."

~/~\~

Dean and Meg walked up to Angela and Emmanuel. Angela narrowed her eyes at Meg.

"What the hell is she doing here?" she whispered to Dean.

"She's here to…help." Dean sighed.

Angela's brows furrowed. "Help? Dean—

"Her face!" Emmanuel exclaimed. "She's one of—

"It's okay," Meg assured. "We come in different flavors."

"She's, uh…a friend," Dean said vaguely.

"Meg," she introduced. "Just here for moral support. I mean, after all, we go way back. Dean, Angela, and me. Just met you of course." She smiled, walking up to Emmanuel. "But I think we're gonna be good friends, too."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright. Can we go?"

~/~\~

Marin walked down the hallway. Sam came and stood in his doorway.

"Marin," he said. "Marin, hey. Hold on. Um…I'm sorry I upset you."

Marin stopped and turned to face him. "It's okay."

Sam paused for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

Marin's brows furrowed. "About?"

"The fire."

Marin shook her head. "Look. You mean well, but you have no idea—

"You said you didn't start it." Sam interrupted. "I believe you. I can help you, Marin, before he tries to hurt you again."

They walked into Sam's room. Lucifer was leaning against the wall.

"You're worse," Marin noted as Sam sat on the bed. "Your organs need sleep, you know. Your hair and nails are gonna fall out, and your kidneys are gonna shut down. I saw it in a movie. Sorry."

Lucifer just laughed.

"So, um, your brother—when did he pass?" Sam asked.

"Uh, last year." Marin shrugged.

"Do you see him?" Sam asked. Marin just shook her head. "So…he just talks to you. I bet at first it wasn't so bad. You must have missed him. Did you just hear him at the house?"

"Here too," Marin replied. "Whenever I'm alone. I can always tell he's coming because I get these chills."

"You feel cold." Sam clarified.

"Yeah," Marin nodded. "I mean, you're right. At first, it's like…I knew I was crazy, but…I didn't really care. I did miss him. But then…he started saying he was lonely," she explained. "And he started to get mad. And one day he started yelling, and I tried to run, but the door was locked. And when I turned around, the whole room was on fire. I barely got out. How can you help me?"

"I can put your brother to rest," Sam replied. "He's, um…He's stuck here."

Marin's brows shot up. "For real? Like—

"Like he's a ghost." Sam nodded.

Marin frowned. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because it's your only shot." Sam countered.

Marin paused for a moment. "Okay."

"Okay," Sam nodded. "So, your brother—was he cremated? Buried?"

"We cremated him."

Sam nodded. "And do you have anything of his?"

Marin touched a bracelet that she was wearing. "This. He made it for me. With a busted hand, too. Sliced it open doing stupid archery."

Sam's brows shot up. "He bled on it?"

"Probably." Marin shrugged.

"Good," Sam nodded. "That's—that's good."

Marin looked confused. "Why is that good?"

"One more question," Sam sighed. "Is there any chance in hell you got a lighter?"

~/~\~

Dean was driving, Angela was in the passenger seat, and Emmanuel and Meg were in the backseat.

"This silence is very uncomfortable," Emmanuel noted. "Is there something I should know?"

"I don't know," Meg replied. "Dean? Angie?"

"No," Dean replied firmly. "Meg has that effect. Awkward. You know?"

Emmanuel looked at Meg. "That must be difficult for you."

"Dean's making a joke, Emmanuel," Meg replied.

Emmanuel paused. "Oh," he nodded, chuckling.

~/~\~

Marin walked into Sam's room holding up a cigarette lighter.

"Nice," Sam smirked slightly. "Where'd you score that?"

"Grabbed it out of Marcus's pocket," Marin replied. "Being locked up is really turning me into a decent criminal."

Sam closed the door and barricaded it with a chair. "We're laying down a circle. Help me open these, okay?"

They used small containers of salt to make a salt circle. Sam looked up and saw Lucifer blowing on the salt. Sam leaned back against the wall.

"You're gonna have to do this on your own," Sam breathed. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just having a little…"

"Brown acid moment," Lucifer smirked.

"Dizzy thing," Sam murmured. "It'll pass."

"Definitely," Lucifer nodded. "When your heart stops."

Sam and Marin stood in the completed salt circle.

"Great," Sam nodded. "Now, um…stay with me in the circle. No matter what. No matter what happens, okay?"

Marin's brows furrowed. "What's gonna happen?"

"Give me the bracelet," Sam instructed.

The lights flickered, and Sam and Marin's breath became visible. The ghost of Marin's brother appeared.

"Marin, don't do this. Please." Her brother begged.

"Marin, give me the bracelet," Sam repeated.

"I'm so sorry. I have to." Marin breathed.

She broke the bracelet from her wrist and gave it to Sam. The room shook, the door flew open, and the lights exploded. Sam lit the bracelet and the ghost burned up screaming.

"Y-you got to go. Go." Sam told Marin.

Marin looked up at Sam. "Thank you," she replied sincerely before she ran off.

Two orderlies entered and grabbed Sam. Sam woke up to Dr. Kadinsky shining a flashlight in his face. Lucifer stood behind Dr. Kadinsky.

"Sam? How are you feeling now?" Dr. Kadinsky asked.

"His soul is broken, Doc," Lucifer replied. "Can you give him a pill?"

"I can't give you any more medication." Dr. Kadinsky sighed. "The potential for overdose is too great."

Sam looked at his fingernails, which were bloody.

"We need to talk about surgical options."

Sam frowned. "Surgical?"

"Ooh, lobotomy?" Lucifer asked excitedly.

"It's okay," Dr. Kadinsky replied. "We're not talking lobotomy here."

Lucifer's face fell. "Darn."

"Sam," Dr. Kadinsky said. "Are you with me? Sam?"

~/~\~

Dean turned off the engine, and he and Angela got out of the car. A number of people were standing around the emergency entrance to the hospital. Dean and Angela walked around the car and joined Emmanuel and Meg.

"Oh, gracious." Emmanuel frowned.

Dean looked through binoculars at the people outside of the emergency entrance.

"Dammit," Meg groaned. "Demons."

"All of them?" Angela asked.

"No grass growing under your feet," Meg sassed.

"How many of those knives do you have?" Emmanuel asked curiously.

"Just the one," Dean sighed.

Emmanuel's frown deepened. "Well, then, forgive me, but what do we do?"

Meg raised her brows and looked at Dean and Angela. "Yeah, guys. Got any other ideas how we could blast through that."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Excuse us," he told Emmanuel. "Meg?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Meg grumbled.

Dean, Angela, and Meg walked a short distance away.

"Sam's in there," Meg noted. "I know you're enjoying the double-dip with your old pal, but—

"You think it's that cut and dry? Really?" Angela scoffed. "You know what he did. And you want to tell him and just hope that he takes it in stride? He could snap. He could…disappear. Who knows?"

"I gather we know each other," Emmanuel said from behind them.

"Just a dollop," Meg replied.

Dean and Angela turned to face Emmanuel.

"You can tell me," Emmanuel urged. "I'll be fine."

"How do you know?" Dean asked. "You just met yourself. Angie and I. have known you for years."

"You're an angel," Meg said suddenly.

Emmanuel looked confused. "I'm sorry? Is that a flirtation?"

"No, it's a species," Meg corrected. "A very powerful one."

"She's not lying," Dean sighed. "Okay? That's why you heal people. You don't eat. I'm sure there's more."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Emmanuel asked. "Being an angel—it sounds pleasant."

Angela shook her head. "It's not, trust me," she replied softly. "It's bloody, it's corrupt. It's not pleasant."

"They would know," Meg added. "You guys used to fight together. Bestest friends, actually."

Emmanuel looked between Angela and Dean. "We're…friends? Am I Cas?" he asked. "I-I had no idea. I don't remember you. I'm sorry."

"Look," Meg cut in. "You got the juice. You can smite every demon in that lot."

Emmanuel shook his head. "But I don't remember how."

Angela walked up to Emmanuel. "It's in there," she assured. "I'm sure it's just like riding a bike."

"I don't know how to do that, either," Emmanuel admitted. He sighed deeply. "Alright, I'll try."

"This ain't gonna go well," Dean muttered.

"I don't know," Meg smirked. "I believe in the little tree topper."

Emmanuel walked towards the hospital emergency entrance.

The demon frowned as Emmanuel approached. "Hey, I know you. You're dead."

"Yes, I've heard," Emmanuel replied.

Memories flashed through Castiel's mind. He remembered meeting Dean and Angela, he remembered breaking Sam's wall, he remembered everything. Castiel smote the demon in front of him.

"That's my boy," Meg smirked.

One of the demons tried to run away, but Castiel appeared right in front of him.

"I don't think running will save you," Castiel noted.

Castiel put a hand to the demon's hand and smote him. Dean, Angela, and Meg walked up behind Castiel.

"That was beautiful, Clarence," Meg smiled slightly.

"Cas?" Angela murmured.

"I remember you," Castiel turned to face Angela and Dean. "I remember everything."

~/~\~

"What I did. What I became." Castiel shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because Sam is _dying_ in there," Angela replied.

"Because of me," Castiel walked closer to Angela. "Everything. All these people. I shouldn't be here." He shook his head. Castiel turned around and started walking away.

"Cas," Angela frowned. "Cas!"

"You stay here," Dean told Meg. "Cas!"

~/~\~

Sam was being wheeled down a hallway on a hospital bed by Marcus.

"Where…Where—where are we?" Sam mumbled as they entered a room.

"Electroshock therapy," Marcus replied. "Let's just get you settled. Don't be freaked. I've seen this help a lot of people."

Sam frowned. "Um, um—

Marcus put a mouth guard in Sam's mouth. "Bite down," he instructed before he turned on the machine. "Ordinarily, they keep this thing set on low. But I was thinking we could experiment a little. What do you say, Sam?" he asked as he put the electrodes on Sam's head. "Let's get that head strapped in."

Sam's eyes widened as Marcus's eyes turned black.

~/~\~

Castiel was walking away from the hospital. Dean and Angela followed close behind him.

"If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time," Dean said.

Castiel shook his head. "Don't defend me. Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth?" he asked, stopping and turning to face the two hunters. "We didn't part friends,"

"So, what?" Angela asked.

Castiel clenched his jaw. "I deserved to die. Now, I can't possibly fix it…So why did I even walk out of that river?"

"Maybe to fix it," Angela replied. "Cas, please, we can't lose Sam again. I can't lose Sam again, not after…not after we just got engaged." She pleaded.

Castiel glanced at the ring on Angela's finger. His face softened slightly. "Angela…"

"Wait," Dean muttered.

Dean opened the trunk of the car and took out Castiel's trench-coat. He held it out to Castiel.

~/~\~

Sam was strapped to the bed and was shaking from the electric shocks.

"Amazing," Marcus smirked. "You just take those lickin's, don't you, kid? Well, if it's meat, you can cook it. You just got to turn up the heat."

Marcus turned towards the machine, but Castiel was there. Castiel put a hand on Marcus's head to smite him. Marcus fell to the ground with his eyes burnt out. Castiel turned off the machine and took away the electrodes on Sam's head and the mouth guard.

"I should have never broken your wall, Sam," Castiel sighed. "I'm here to make it right."

Castiel touched Sam's head, but he didn't look any better. Sam saw Lucifer in Castiel's place.

"You're not real." Sam shook his head weakly.

"Oh, Sam…" Castiel frowned. "I'm so sorry."

~/~\~

Lucifer was sitting in a chair next to Sam's bed, holding the book _'Three Little Pigs'_.

"I see that third little pig was smart," Lucifer noted. "Went out and got some bricks."

Dean, Angela, and Castiel were standing in the room.

"What do you mean you can't?" Angela asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Castiel sighed deeply. "I mean, there's nothing left to rebuild."

"Why not?" Angela questioned.

"Because it crumbled," Castiel replied. "The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now."

"So, you're saying there's nothing?" Dean asked. "That he's gonna be like this until his candle blows out?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel said sincerely. "This isn't a problem I can make disappear. And you know that."

Angela paused for a moment. "What…what if you can, I don't know, transfer it?" Angela asked, looking at Castiel. "Put whatever he's seeing into someone else's head. Like…mine." She suggested.

Dean's brows furrowed, and he shook his head. "No way, kid. Sam would never forgive us if we let you do that."

"Dean, I can't watch him wither away like this!" Angela cried.

"Do you think he'd want you to take on his pain?" Dean asked. "He'd beat himself up for the rest of his damn life."

Angela was about to argue, but Castiel cut her off.

"Dean is right, Angela," Castiel interjected, looking at her. "But, so are you. I can transfer it, just not to you…"

Angela's brows furrowed. "Cas, what the hell—

"Angela, you and Sam deserve to get married. It's been a long time coming." Castiel interrupted. "Transferring it will get Sam back on his feet," he sat on the bed close to Sam. "It's better this way. I'll be fine."

Sam flinched as Castiel approached.

Dean looked confused. "Wait, Cas, what are you doing?"

"Now, Sam…" Castiel started.

"This may hurt," Lucifer explained. "And if I can't tell you again…"

"I'm sorry I ever did this to you." Castiel apologized.

Castiel put a hand on Sam's head. Sam groaned in pain, and his face and eyes glowed red. The red traveled up Castiel's arm, and his face and eyes turned red. Sam groaned and gasped for breath.

"Sam!" Angela exclaimed.

Angela and Dean walked around the bed to the other side.

"Angie!" Sam replied. "Dean!"

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

Sam's brows furrowed when he looked at Castiel. "Cas? Cas, is that you?"

Castiel saw Lucifer on the bed in Sam's place.

"Hello…brother," Lucifer smirked.

Castiel stood up and backed away in horror. Sam, Dean, and Angela looked at each other in concern.

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Dean left the hospital. Angela held Sam's hand as they walked.

"I don't know," Sam sighed. "I mean, we can't just leave him."

"Well, we can't bring him with us," Dean replied. "Everything on the planet's out for us, okay? Word gets out, we can't protect him. Not really."

"This is safer." Angela agreed.

The three hunters stopped at the car.

"Every demon who knows about Cas is dead," Dean asked.

"Not everyone," Sam sighed. "Look, this whole 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' thing feels kind of like a demon deal."

"It's not a deal," Dean assured. "It's—

"It's what?" Sam asked.

"Mutually assured destruction," Dean replied. "Look, I get it. She's not our friend. We don't even have friends. All our friends are dead." He added before getting into the car.

Sam sighed and sat in the backseat with Angela. Angela curled up next to Sam and looked up at him.

"I'm glad you're okay," she murmured before leaning up to kiss him.


	35. Party On, Garth Part 1

Sam was driving and Angela sat in the passenger seat. Dean sat in the back, talking on the phone.

"Alright, well, call us if he wakes up or, you know, anything." Dean sighed. "Yeah, fine. Thanks for your help, Meg." He added before hanging up. "What a bitch."

"So, Cas is still the same, then?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, down to the drool." Dean nodded.

"Huh," Sam muttered.

Dean looked at Sam. "By the way, how is your custard?"

"It's alright," Sam shrugged. "It's getting better. Just wish it wasn't like the damn tape from _'The Ring'_. I mean, I feel like I'm okay 'cause I passed on the crazy."

"No, you didn't. You heard what Cas said." Dean replied.

Sam was about to argue when Angela's phone started ringing.

"Hello?" Angela greeted.

 _"Hey, Angela,"_ Garth's voice rang through. _"It's Garth."_

Angela smiled. "Garth!" she replied, causing Dean to roll his eyes. "How you doing?"

 _"I need some help,"_ Garth sighed. _"There's something brewing in Junction City, Kansas."_

~/~\~

The coroner led Sam, Dean, and Angela into the room. The three hunters were in their FBI apparel.

"Well this is it," the coroner said. "Agents…this is Corporal Brown."

Garth, wearing an Army uniform, stood next to the body. "Corporal James Brown. I'm shipping off to the AF mañana." He explained. "I'm here to pay respects to my cousin as I will not be able to attend the funeral."

"That must be terrible for your family," the coroner replied. "Losing two brothers so fast."

Dean, Sam, and Angela looked at each other. Sam looked at Garth, to whom this was obviously news.

"Yeah. Yeah." Garth nodded. "My aunt—she's, uh…she's real broken up about it."

"Hey, could we see both files, please?" Angela asked the coroner.

"Mm-hmm." He nodded. The coroner's phone started to ring. "Ah," he handed Angela the files. "My wife. I'll, uh, be in my office."

"Great." Dean nodded.

The coroner left the room. Sam looked at Garth, slightly annoyed.

"You didn't say they were brothers," Sam sighed.

"Dude, I just found out about the other corpse, and…started moving quick." Garth defended. "I'm sucking up info as I go."

Dean eyed Garth. "What, are you allergic to a suit?"

"No," Garth muttered. "I just…look good in a uniform."

Angela opened up the file. "Yep. Same cause of death."

Angela and Sam walked over to a computer. Angela sat down, and Sam leaned over her shoulder slightly.

"Right, uh, gutted at night in the woods, where legend says that the ghost of Jenny Greentree roams," Garth explained.

Dean took out his EMF reader.

"Oh, uh, I already scanned for EM…" Garth started as Dean's EMF reader started to make noise. "F. Oh. Um…I guess mine must be broken again."

"Alright. I'm reading your mail," Dean put his EMF reader away. "Uh, ghost of Jenny…whatever?"

"Greentree," Garth replied. "That's just it. I torched her bones."

"Yeah, well, maybe she's got something still laying around," Dean suggested.

"Highly doubtful," Garth replied. "Chick was homeless."

Dean looked under the sheet at the body and made a face.

"Plus, is it me, or is this less evil spirit, more monster chow?" Garth asked.

"A werewolf?" Dean raised his brows.

"Except, uh, the witness said that whatever was chasing victims numero uno was invisible," Garth explained.

"Uh…" Dean chuckled. "So, invisible ghost werewolf?"

Garth smirked slightly. "Why'd you think I called for backup?"

"Hey," Angela said suddenly. "Either of you ever heard of Thighslapper Ale?"

Garth's brows furrowed. "Is that a stripper or a beverage?"

"Beverage for douchebags." Dean scoffed.

"Uh, number one microbrew in the Pacific Northwest," Sam read.

"But…we're in Kansas," Garth noted.

"Yeah, I rest my case," Dean muttered. "What's your point?"

"The owner is the dad to the dead brothers," Angela replied.

"Right," Garth nodded. "I'll can the uniform, go Fed. See you at the brewery in 40." He added before leaving.

"He's a sweetheart," Angela smiled softly.

Sam just scoffed slightly, causing Angela to look up at him.

"He'll grow on you, babe," she assured.

~/~\~

Marie walked through the brewery and opened the door for Sam, Angela, Dean, and Garth, who were all in their FBI apparel.

"Agents," Marie greeted. "I'm Marie. I'm a manager."

"Thanks for coming in on a Sunday," Angela replied.

"We want to help," Marie sighed as she led them into the brewery. "Anything we can do."

"Oh. So, all this is your dad's, huh?" Dean asked.

"And his friend—Randy Baxter. They own the place together now." Marie explained.

Sam tilted his head slightly. "Uh... 'now'?"

"Well, since Dale died," Marie added.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," a man lectured nearby. "You think I just come in late whenever I want?"

The man was standing in his office, lecturing a teenage boy. Another man was leaning against the wall.

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy said sincerely. "It won't happen again."

"The, uh, _'charming'_ Randy Baxter," Marie noted.

"Mm." Dean hummed.

"Tell you what—congratulations," Randy told the boy. "You're headed for the graveyard shift. Be one second late, and you're fired."

"Yes, sir," the boy nodded in understanding.

"He's actually a really nice guy," Marie assured. "It's just not easy being the axman."

"So true," Dean agreed.

"My comrades got you covered, so if you'll excuse me," Garth cut in.

"Uh, yeah, I'll go with you," Angela replied.

Angela and Garth walked into the office.

"Mr. McAnn?" Angela asked gently. "Uh, we'll be brief. I promise."

"Mr. McAnn, is there any reason to believe your sons may have had enemies?" Garth asked.

Mr. McAnn looked confused. "We were told they were animal attacks."

"We just need to explore every possibility," Angela explained.

"They got lots of friends. No." Mr. McAnn replied.

"Well, do they work here with you?" Angela asked. "Like Marie does. Uh, could someone have been jealous?"

"N-no. Marie's the only one. Oh—no. Th—there's no…uh…" Mr. McAnn stammered.

"Jim," Randy said gently. "It's okay. It's okay." He added before turning to Angela and Garth. "Let him get some rest. I'll answer your questions."

"Of course," Angela nodded.

Mr. McAnn left the room quietly.

~/~\~

Marie, Dean, and Sam were walking through the brewery.

"He blamed himself when Dale died, and now this," Marie sighed.

"Why did he blame himself?" Dean asked.

"Well, Dale was sensitive," Marie replied. "But what do you do—watch them 24/7? You can't blame Dale's friends."

"But your dad still feels bad," Sam noted.

Marie nodded. "And it doesn't help Dale's wife is suing us."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Really? Why?"

"She's angry and grieving, and this is America?" Marie shrugged.

~/~\~

Angela and Garth were sitting in the chairs across from Randy in the office. Randy was leaning against the desk.

"I knew Ray and Trevor," Randy started. "Hell, I'm godfather to all four of Jim's kids. Ray and Trevor loved their fun, but they'd never do anything crazy."

"No rugrats of your own?" Garth raised his brows.

"Just Jim's. They'd borrow my car, raid my fridge." Randy shrugged.

"Now, the two of you started this company with a third partner," Angela noted. "Right?"

"Yeah. Dale," Randy nodded. "He passed away a few months ago."

"Passed away in the woods or…?" Garth trailed off.

"He took his own life," Randy replied as he sat in the chair behind the desk.

"Oh. Sorry." Garth replied.

"Well, he had problems for a long time," Randy sighed. "Look, this is just a nightmare."

Angela noticed a wooden box with Japanese characters written on it next to a tray of drinks behind the desk.

"First Dale, now this," Randy shook his head. "This was gonna be our big year. We're selling Thighslapper to one of the largest distributors in the US. It's been in the works for months. News is gonna hit public pretty soon."

"Well, that's the brass ring, huh?" Garth asked.

"Given other circumstances, yeah, we'd be celebrating right about now." Randy nodded.

~/~\~

The four hunters were in the motel room. Garth was working on his EMF reader while Dean sat on the sofa reading a journal. Sam and Angela sat at the table using the laptop.

"There's a million things with claws that go bump in the night," Dean sighed. "Once you throw in 'invisible', the number goes down," he added as he picked up a motel card on the table next to him. "Afternoon Delights?" he scoffed. "Really, Garth? Don't you think this place is a little, uh…"

"Uh, you want a nice hot tub after a day at the office," Garth defended. "It's the little things. I feel sad for those brewery dudes. Spend your life beautifying the world through beer. First, a partner offs himself. Now two kids get ganked by unknown freakadeek."

"According to this, Dale wasn't just a partner," Sam started. "He was also the brewmaster."

Dean raised his brows. "Brewmaster?"

"He was widely considered a genius," Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, that's it," he said as he got up. "No microbrew is worth…" he started as he set the flask down near Garth, causing the EMF to make noise. "What was it—either Food Magazine awards?" he took beer bottles out of the fridge. "Beer's not food. It's…whatever water is."

"You mean a beverage?" Angela raised a brow.

Dean put a bottle down for Garth. "Yeah, whatever," Dean shrugged as he put two bottles down for Sam and Angela. "Hmm. Thighslapper," Dean hummed before he took a drink. "Wow, that's actually awesome. Dammit, I'm not even mad anymore."

Dean, Sam, and Angela watched as Garth drank the entire contents out of his bottle and shook the last few drops into his mouth. He let out a belch afterward.

"Wow," Angela smiled slightly. "Party on, Garth."

"I don't even usually drink beer. It messes with my depth perception," Garth replied, belching again. He let out a hiccup. "Especially when I skinny dip," he added, causing the other three hunters to look at each other. "Hey, you guys want to hear a joke?"

"Listen to this," Angela cut in. "This is something interesting."

Garth laughed and Sam looked at him with his brows furrowed.

"Garth, are you…drunk?" Sam asked.

"Dude, I just…drank a whole beer. Of course I'm drunk," Garth replied before belching again.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked at Angela. "Something interesting?"

"Right," she nodded. "Uh…"

"Hey, can I have some more Thighslapper?" Garth asked.

"No," Sam and Dean said in unison.

"Coffee for you, Tara Reid," Dean added.

"Coffee with kalhúa in it?" Garth asked with a smile.

"So, it says that Dale actually left the company two weeks before he died," Angela noted. "Or…maybe he got pushed out 'cause he didn't want to tell. I mean, Baxter said the deal's been in the work for months."

Sam nodded. "That would explain the window. She's suing."

"Maybe Dale had a bone to pick, and he's still picking it," Dean added.

"Right. So, maybe he's spirit malo," Garth chimed in.

 _"Unit to McAnn residence, 698 Washburn,"_ the voice on the police radio said.

Sam frowned. "McAnn residence, as in Jim McAnn?"

"As in, let's hope for their sake our spirit ain't made it out of the woods," Garth replied. "Alright. Let's go check it."

"Uh, you two go," Sam suggested. "Angie and I are gonna visit the widow."

Dean looked at Sam, who smiled at him.

~/~\~

"Well?" Dean asked.

"Place is clean," Garth replied. "My EMF is nada." He added as he took out another EMF reader. "So is this one."

Dean frowned. "Is that mine?"

"Yeah," Garth nodded. "I borrowed it in case mine's broke."

"Oh." Dean nodded.

"So, uh…we still on invisible werewolf?" Garth asked.

"Maybe, maybe not." Dean sighed. "I can't get Tess to talk, but I get the feeling she saw something."

Tess was sitting on the sofa with Mr. McAnn and Marie.

"I'm gonna take a run at her," Garth replied.

Dean's brows furrowed. "A what?"

"Trust me," Garth assured. "My special lady has twins." He added before walking into the living room. "Mr. McAnn?"

Dean looked even more confused. "Special lady?" he muttered as he followed Garth.

"Do you mind if we speak to Tess alone for just a sec?" Garth asked Mr. McAnn. "It would really help."

Mr. McAnn nodded and looked down at Tess. "Honey, we'll…we'll be right out there, okay?"

"Thanks," Garth smiled softly.

Mr. McAnn and Marie left the room quietly.

"Hi, Tess," Garth greeted as he sat down on the coffee table in front of Tess. "You want to tell me what you saw tonight?"

Tess just shook her head.

"Or maybe you'll talk to…" Garth raised a hand in a sock puppet. "Mr. Fizzles!" he said in a high-pitched voice as he waved the puppet around. "I'm your friend! Yay!"

"Garth," Dean sighed. "Why don't we put the sock away?"

"Mr. Fizzles wants to help Tess. He wants to listen." Garth replied in the same high-pitched voice.

Dean sighed again. "Mr. Fizzle is gonna go where the sun don't shine."

"It was a monster," Tess said suddenly.

"I believe you, Tess," Garth said in his Mr. Fizzles voice. "Did it have claws?"

Tess nodded. Dean couldn't believe that the damn puppet had worked…

"How come you were the only one that could see it, Tess?" Dean asked.

Tess just shrugged.

"What else, Tess?" Garth asked in his Mr. Fizzles voice.

Tess shrugged again.

"You sure? 'Cause Mr. Fizzles can sense when you're being a…" Garth started. "Liar." He finished, deepening his voice.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright. That's—that's enough…Mr. Fizzles."

"I drank a grown-up drink," Tess admitted.

Dean was taken aback. "Uh, grown-up drink like, uh, coffee?" he asked. Tess just shook her head, and Dean frowned. "Well, you mean alcohol?"

"It was an accident!" Tess replied. "Don't let them arrest me, Mr. Fizzles!"

Garth looked at Dean and pointed Mr. Fizzles at him. Both Garth and the puppet nodded.

~/~\~

"Your husband did a lot of traveling, huh?" Sam asked.

"He went to all kinds of exotic places for the best ingredients." Mrs. Lampert replied.

"Right. We've tried his work," Angela replied. "It's great. Um, I hear you're not exactly on the best of terms with Dale's old partners?"

"Well, they sold his company right out from under him," Mrs. Lampert replied. "It's not about money. It's about…it was his baby, you know?"

"You sound pretty upset about it," Sam noted.

"I'm furious," Mrs. Lampert replied. "But then I think how Dale was."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked curiously.

"His friends left him behind, but you know what he said?" Mrs. Lampert raised her brows. "I'm gonna send them a gift that shows I forgive them."

Angela frowned slightly. "Do you have any idea what he sent them?"

"Bottle of sake." Mrs. Lampert shrugged. "From one of his trips. In a…gorgeous box with writing. He was so careful with it. Wouldn't let me touch it."

Angela's frown deepened as she recalled the box she saw in the office earlier.

~/~\~

Garth was driving and Dean sat in the passenger's seat.

"So, kid in the woods sees something that nobody else does," Dean recapped. "Then Tess sees a monster, and Jim doesn't. What's the thread?"

"Hmm. Well, certain mutants see infrared," Garth suggested.

"Grown-up drinks," Dean frowned. "Tess chugged her mom's, and vic number one was plastered."

"Right. So…" Garth trailed off. "Whoa. Monster you got to be drunk to see. Cool!" he exclaimed. "Also…hard to fight."

Dean took a drink from his flask, rolling his eyes at the look Garth gave him. "Ahh. Just getting in the zone. You are strictly on wine coolers."

"Hey, I love those. Anything sweet." Garth chuckled. "Whoo!"

Dean took another drink. Garth eyed the flask.

"So, uh, what's with the grody flask anyway? Lucky charm?"

"It's Bobby's," Dean replied.

Garth frowned when he remembered his EMF going off when Dean set the flask next to him back at the motel. "Hmm. Really? 'Cause, um…You think there's a possibility that Bobby's riding your wave?"

"No, we gave him a hunter's wake," Dean replied.

"Yeah, I-I burned my cousin Brandon, and he stayed stuck." Garth countered. "And—and—and they got ghosts in India, and they cremate everybody over there. It's just instinct, but maybe there is EMF around here. It just ain't the job."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, we're not gonna talk about this, okay? Not in the middle of work."

"Sorry," Garth muttered.

Dean's phone started to ring.

"Just hope that fire did the trick," Garth muttered as Dean answered the phone.

"Hey, Angie," Dean greeted. "Yeah. Got it. We're on our way."

~/~\~

Garth was in the car, which was parked outside of the brewery. Sam picked the lock on the brewery door, and he, Angela, and Dean entered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked through the brewery to the office.

"Here it is," Angela said, picking up the wooden box. She set the box on the desk and opened it to reveal the bottle of Saki. However, the seal was broken. "Oh," she shook the bottle. "Wait a second. Someone's been sampling the goods."

"Oh, you don't say?" Dean asked. He looked up and noticed a camera. "Hey, check it out. God, I love paranoid people." He smirked. "See if you can get on." He instructed Sam.

"Okay. Uh…" Sam sat down at the computer. Sam brought up an image of himself, Angela, and Dean. "Huh!"

Dean, Sam, and Angela waved at the camera.

"Alright, so, the first death was, what, uh, four months ago?" Sam asked. "Yeah."

"Mm-hmm, and, uh, Trevor McAnn. Patient zero." Dean replied.

"So, what did he let out of that bottle?" Angela muttered.

Sam played the security footage, which showed Mr. McAnn and Randy in the office, the cleaner, and Trevor.

"Nothing there," Sam sighed.

Dean frowned. "That we can see."

The security footage showed Trevor taking some bottles from the office. Dean put a bottle and two glasses on the desk. He clapped Sam and Angela on their shoulders.

Sam scoffed. "What, are you kidding me?"

"Tick-tock," Dean replied.

Sam sighed and poured himself and Angela a glass of whiskey.

"Ugh," Dean groaned as he put the cap back on a bottle.

"I mean, can you even get drunk anymore?" Sam asked Dean. "It's kind of like, uh, drinking a vitamin for you, right?"

"Shut up," Dean replied. He sniffled another bottle. "Holy…" he drank from the bottle and coughed.

Dean poured himself a glass of the clear liqueur and clinked glasses with Sam and Angela. The three hunters drank. Sam poured himself and Angela another glass of whiskey each.

"Alright," Dean sat down. "Party time."

Angela was on Sam's lap, her arms around his neck.

"Okay," Sam muttered.

"Rewind and go." Dean nodded,

Sam played the footage of Trevor. They saw the long-haired woman in the white dress standing in the office.

"So, he—he let that thing out of the box, and it must have just followed him to the place with all the thingies." Sam explained.

Angela looked up at him, her eyes slightly glazed over. "Babe, you are so smart," she replied. "Like, _so smart_."

"I'm actually kind of drunk," Dean muttered, looking at his empty glass. "What is this?" he poured himself another drink. "Me likey. I miss these talks."

Dean took a drink, but spat it out again as Randy walked into the office.

"What the hell?!" Randy exclaimed.

"Oh, man," Dean muttered.

"Uh…" Angela muttered.

"Turn it off. Turn it off." Dean hissed.

"FBI, huh? You know what?" Randy asked, pushing buttons on his phone. "You can save it for the cops."

"Whoa, whoa, Mr. Baxter, listen," Sam pleaded. "If—if you just let us explain, you might not—

"Aah!" Mr. Baxter yelled, falling to the floor as Garth tasered him.

 _"911. What is your emergency?"_ the operator's voice rang through the phone. _"Hello? Do you need assistance?"_


	36. Party On, Garth Part 2

A Japanese man in a restaurant uniform was reading the writing on the Saki box. Sam, Dean, and Angela were holding coffees.

"Anata ga marou mono…Wa anata ka ra mo morau." The man read. "Is says, 'what you took will be taken from you' Like, eye for an eye. You with me?"

Sam and Angela nodded.

"Kono bin niwa syoujou zuke no sake ga hu-in sarete iru." The man continued. "Where'd you guys get this anyway?"

"Why?" Angela frowned. "Is—is there, uh, something the matter?"

"Well, you're not superstitious, are you?" the man asked, handing the box to Angela.

"Not at all," Dean replied.

"No, no." Sam agreed.

"Because…this says the bottle inside contains a Shojo." The man said.

Dean frowned. "What's a…Shojo?"

"An alcohol spirit." The man replied. "Look, it's just an old myth. I wouldn't worry about it. But they are not known for being friendly."

Someone from inside the restaurant shouted in Japanese and the man shouted back in return.

"I got to go," the man said.

"Oh. Uh, hey, uh…there you go." Dean handed the man some money. "Thank you."

"Thank you," the man replied.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Take care." The man replied before walking away.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the motel room. Garth was performing some sort of martial art exercises in the courtyard to the rear of the room.

"Garth," Angela called out. "Where's Baxter?"

Garth came into the room and pointed. "Dude's a lot heavier than he looks, FYI."

Randy was in the hot tub with a pillowcase over his head.

"But here," Garth indicated Dean's EMF reader. "Thought you might want this back."

"You have the CEO of the douchiest microbrew in the US gagged in your hot tub?" Dean asked. "You really think that's gonna end well?"

"I'm not feeling the love," Garth replied.

"Alright. Shojo," Sam interjected. "Uh, let's see what we can see," he added as he sat down to use the laptop.

"What's a Shojo?" Garth asked.

"Japanese booze monster," Dean replied.

"I guess that would explain why you got to be drunk to see it," Garth replied. "Very poetic." He added as he looked over Sam's shoulder. "Ooh. Creepy."

"Okay," Sam started. "So, a Shojo is said to roam where there's lots of alcohol. There's lore saying that, back in the old day, if you were plastered enough, you could see one skulking around the breweries in Japan."

Dean was refilling his flask with whiskey. "Yeah, but why is this one shredding brewers' kids?"

"Apparently, you can harness the will of a Shojo with the right spell box," Sam explained. "Then you basically have an attack dog that you can sic on whatever sort of personal revenge mission you want."

"So, Dale nabs one to punish his pals," Angela sighed.

"Send the bottle, sooner or later it's popped open." Sam nodded. "Then you have a Shojo that will do whatever Dale compelled it to do right here on the box."

"Wait," Garth frowned. "Except it's not killing the people that screwed him over."

"Well, Dale's widow said that the company was his baby," Angela shrugged. "So, if he really wanted his friends to feel what he felt…"

"He would take theirs." Dean finished. "Well, their kids. Jim's, anyways."

"And Baxter was the godfather," Sam added.

"Alright, skip to how do we gank it," Dean replied.

"Good news," Sam noted. "It is killable."

"But…" Dean trailed off.

"But only with a Samurai sword consecrated with a Shinto blessing." Sam sighed.

"Well…that's not a silver lining," Dean muttered. "Alright, the Shojo already cleaned house, right? I mean, Marie's the last target standing, so…I'll hit the pawn shops and, uh, look for the sword, and you and Angie babysit Marie."

Garth dropped and caught the EMF reader, which started to make noise. "Yikes. Sorry."

Dean snatched the EMF reader from Garth. "Don't worry about it," he replied as he turned it off.

"Unless I've got nothing to be sorry for," Garth muttered.

"Garth," Dean warned.

"What's he talking about?" Angela asked.

Garth sighed. "I'm concerned that Bobby might be haunting you. I-I brought it up to Dean, and he shot me down."

"Garth!" Dean snapped. "Leave it alone."

"It's okay," Sam said suddenly.

Dean shook his head. "No, it's far from okay."

"I've already tried contacting Bobby," Sam admitted, earning surprised looks from both Dean and Angela. "When that beer disappeared, I pulled out a talking board."

"Without me and Angie?" Dean frowned.

"You know, I figured, why drag you guys in…when it's something I could just put to bed myself." Sam shrugged.

"And?" Angela asked.

"And if he was there, I'd have told you guys," Sam replied.

Randy started to groan as he woke up.

"Talk about this later," Dean sighed. "You and Angie follow Marie. Let me borrow your keys."

~/~\~

Dean took a sword out of its scabbard and put it down on a wooden box. The Japanese man was reading from a piece of paper.

"It says it's best to do this in a running spring."

"Uh, yeah. I, uh…" Dean took a bottle of spring water out of his jacket. "I got it. Okay. We good?"

"I'll do my best."

"Alright," Dean picked up the sword and prepared to pour water on it.

The Japanese man muttered something and looked at Dean. "Go."

"Oh," Dean nodded. He poured water over the sword.

"Hito no ten irori korekara seitoun yakuwari wo hatasu kono ken wo tataer." The man chanted.

Dean continued pouring water onto the sword.

"That's it." The man said.

"Oh," Dean replied. He stopped pouring. "Alright, uh, thanks." He handed the man some money. "There."

"Thank you." The man nodded.

"Yeah," Dean replied. His phone rang as he put the sword back into its scabbard. "Hey, Garth," he answered.

 _"Dean,"_ Garth's voice rang through. _"Baxter's got a secret love child! The Shojo might come for him first!"_

"Whoa, slow down!" Dean exclaimed.

 _"I'm trying to save lives here!"_ Garth argued.

"Are you drunk?" Dean frowned.

 _"Dammit,"_ Garth muttered.

"Garth?" Dean asked. "You dropped the phone, didn't you? Hello? Garth!"

 _"Sorry, sorry, sorry,"_ Garth whispered. _"I'm here."_

Dean sighed. "Where the hell are you?"

_"I'm in the brewery."_

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were at the bar drinking whiskey. Behind them, Marie was at a table. Sam signaled the bartender for two more drinks.

~/~\~

Dean frowned. "Garth?"

 _"Dean,"_ Garth whispered. _"It's here."_

Dean quickly hung up and got into Garth's vehicle.

~/~\~

Sam's phone rang. "Yeah," he answered.

 _"Hey, are either of you good to drive?"_ Dean's voice rang through.

Sam frowned at his drink and glanced at Angela's. "Uh…"

 _"Well, get a ride,"_ Dean replied. _"It's at the brewery."_

Sam's frown deepened. "What?"

 _"There's another kid,"_ Dean replied. _"Don't think—move."_

~/~\~

Sam and Angela quickly left the bar. A valet was helping a couple into a taxi.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait!" Angela exclaimed. "Hey, hey, hey! Stop! Hold on, National Security!" Angela flashed her badge. "Please!"

The woman who was about to get into the taxi stepped back.

"Thank you, ma'am," Angela said sincerely. "Sorry. Thanks, guys."

Angela and Sam quickly got into the taxi.

"Okay," Sam sighed. "Brewery. Step on it!"

"What?" the driver asked.

"The brewery! Hurry!" Sam exclaimed. "Hurry. Hurry, hurry. Please?"

"Yeah, but I like to drive safe, you know." The driver countered.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela ran into the brewery, startle by Randy's son almost running into them.

"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Angela exclaimed.

"We got to get out of here!" Randy's son exclaimed, pushing past the hunters. "It's here!"

"Where's Garth?" Sam asked as they followed the boy.

"Who?!"

"Garth!" Angela exclaimed.

"I-I—there was a guy—he got knocked out!" the boy replied.

"Oh. Oh, okay," Sam sighed. His eyes widened when he saw the Shojo approaching. "Stay behind us. Stay behind us."

"Okay, okay," the boy nodded. He frowned. "What, you guys…you guys can see it?"

"Yeah," Angela nodded. "We're—we're skunked. Just, uh…" she looked at an open door nearby. "Fire exit. On three."

"Okay," the boy nodded.

"Alright?" Angela breathed. The door slammed shut. "Crap. So much for that." She muttered.

The Shojo appeared right in front of Sam and Angela, throwing them into the wall hard enough to crack it. The two hunters fell to the ground, unconscious. Dean appeared and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Aah!" the boy exclaimed.

"Get back!" Dean yelled.

Dean pushed the boy behind him and slashed with the sword. The Shojo hit him and he fell to the ground. The sword skidded along the floor. Dean sat up and looked at Sam and Angela, who were still unconscious. Dean then looked for the sword, which slid back along the floor towards him. Sam and Angela woke up groggily as Dean got to his feet.

"Where is it?!" Dean yelled.

"Uh, s-s-swing right!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean slashed to his left with the sword.

"My right," Sam clarified.

Dean slashed again as the Shojo ducked.

"3 o'clock, Dean!" Angela exclaimed as Dean slashed again. "6 o'clock!"

The boy ducked as Dean swung the sword. He plunged the sword into the Shojo and took his hand from the hilt of the sword. The Shojo materialized, screamed, and fell backward as it disappeared. Dean picked up the sword.

"You okay?" Dean asked the boy.

"I'm alive. Yeah." He nodded.

"Sam, Angie?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, giving Dean a thumbs-up.

"Where's Garth?" Dean asked.

"Well, he's—he's over this way," the boy pointed.

Dean sighed. "Would you go get him?"

"Alright,"

Sam got up and helped Angela up. They followed Randy's son. Dean looked at the sword, and then in the direction from which it moved towards him.

"This moved," Dean muttered. "Bobby? Are you here? Come on, do something."

Sam and Angela were watching from behind a corner.

~/~\~

Garth was walking to his vehicle carrying a bag. "You sure you guys don't want to hang out? Grab some brunch, maybe some brews?"

"Tempting, but, uh, we better roll," Dean replied.

"Alright, well…" Garth hugged Dean tightly.

"Oh. Yeah." Dean nodded, raising his eyebrows at Sam.

"Call me anytime," Garth smiled.

"Alright," Dean nodded.

"Bye, Angie," Garth smiled, hugging her just as tightly.

"Bye, hon," Angela hugged him back. "Stay safe out there."

Garth nodded and pulled away. He turned to Sam. "And you, Sam."

Garth and Sam shook hands.

"Yeah," Sam smiled.

Garth paused for a moment. "Aw, come here." He grinned before hugging Sam.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Garth," Sam smiled slightly.

Garth pulled away and nodded at Dean's car. "Nice ride," he said before getting into his own vehicle.

Sam wrapped an arm around Angela's waist. "You're right, babe. He has grown on me."

Garth drove away, loud music playing from his speakers. Dean rose a hand in farewell.

Sam looked at Dean after Garth drove off. "Alright, um…So, let's talk about it."

"About what?" Dean frowned. "Oh. The, uh, talking board?"

"No, not that," Sam sighed. "Look, Angie and I heard you."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Heard me what?"

"What happened in the brewery, Dean?" Angela asked.

"Nothing," Dean replied. "It was, uh—it was just my imagination."

Dean turned to go inside the motel room, Sam and Angela on his heels.

"Dean, look, we know something happened," Sam sighed.

~/~\~

"We just want you to be straight with us," Sam continued as they walked into the motel room.

"It's nothing," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Clearly," Sam scoffed.

"Well, then, what? Is Bobby here, or not?" Dean asked.

"You know what I think, Dean?" Angela sighed. "I think that regular people, they see ones they lost everywhere too."

"Yeah, freakin' ghosts!" Dean exclaimed.

"Or they just miss 'em a lot," Sam shrugged. "I mean, they see a face in a crowd, we see a book falling off the table. Same thing, Dean. I did the talking board, I ran plenty of EMF. When that beer went poof—I went a little nuts."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, why didn't you tell me or Angie?"

"Like I said, little nuts at the time," Sam replied.

"Alright, well, if it wasn't Bobby, then what Jedi'd that sword into my hand?" Dean raised his brows.

"The Shojo slammed the door from across the room." Sam countered. "Maybe it was trying to grab the sword, too."

Dean cleared his throat. "Right. Right, I mean if it was Bobby, he would let us know. I mean, who knows more about being a ghost than Bobby? Instant Swayze, right?"

"Exactly," Angela replied.

"Okay." Dean nodded. "Okay, you—so your theory is that we're practically regular people about something for once. Alright," Dean sighed as they picked up their bags. "Well, you want to grab some brunch and some brews?"

"Ugh," Sam groaned. "No. Angie and I are so hungover. Let's just hit the road."

"Alright," Dean shrugged, opening the door.

The three hunters left the room. Unbeknownst to them, Bobby was in the room, staring after them.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela got into the car.

"Hang on," Dean frowned.

Dean got out of the car and walked back into the motel room.

~/~\~

Dean looked around the room. Bobby was looking back at him.

"There you are," Dean breathed.

Bobby smiled slightly. Dean walked towards him and picked up the flask. Bobby's smile fell.

"I'm right here, you idjit!"

Dean paused on his way out the door, but then closed the door behind him. Dean got back in the car and they drove away.


	37. Of Grave Importance Part 1

Sam was leaning against the hood of the car. Angela stood in between Sam's legs and was leaning against his chest. Sam wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his cheek against her head.

Dean walked up carrying a tray of take-out food. "God, could you two be any more gross?" he teased.

Angela stuck her tongue out at Dean playfully. "You're just jealous."

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Whatever. Here,"

Dean sat down next to Sam and Angela. He put the tray down on the hood between them.

"You know…even though the world is going to crap, there's one thing that I can always count on," Dean started. "These things tasting the same in every drive-through in every state in our great nation," he added before taking a bite of taco. "Mmm."

Suddenly, a phone started to ring. Sam took his arms away from Angela's waist and started to pat his pockets. Dean took out his cell.

"Annie," he greeted, clearly surprised.

 _"Hey, Dean,"_ Annie's voice rang through.

"A nice surprise." He replied. "How you been?"

 _"Oh, I'm still kicking. So, good, I guess,"_ she replied. _"Heard about Bobby. I'm sorry."_

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Us too. What's up?"

_"Well, I got some of his old books. I thought maybe you'd want 'em."_

"Yeah. Sure. Where you at?" Dean asked.

 _"Bodega Bay,"_ she responded. _"Crow's Nest Inn."_

"You working?" Dean asked.

 _"Always,"_ Annie chuckled. _"You guys anywhere nearby?"_

"Near enough."

 _"Cool. Why don't we meet at the Pier Front Restaurant—lunch?_ " she suggested.

"1 o'clock?" Dean replied.

 _"Yeah. Bye."_ Annie confirmed before hanging up.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting at a table overlooking the pier. Sam held Angela's hand as they looked over their menus. Dean was looking through a newspaper.

"Hey, get this," Dean started. "Dick Roman is funding another archaeological dig. Guy moves more dirt than _'The Drudge Report'_."

"Well, any—anything on what he's digging for?" Sam asked curiously.

Dean frowned at his brother. "Don't you think I would have led with that?"

Sam sighed and looked at his watch. "Annie's not usually this late, is she?"

Dean shook his head. "No, never. She's totally compulsive. I'll try her cell."

"You know, uh, you know she and Bobby had a thing, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I knew that." Dean muttered as he dialed her number. "Really?" he looked at Sam.

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "Kind of a foxhole thing—very Hemingway."

"Huh," Dean muttered. "She and I kind of went Hemingway this one time, too."

Sam frowned. "Alright, well…that happens." He replied, making a face.

Both Dean and Angela looked at him in confusion. Sam shrunk slightly under their combined gaze.

"Look, i-it was a while back," Sam started. "We ended up on the same case. She was stressed. I-I-I…I didn't…have a soul."

"That's a lot of foxholes," Dean muttered.

Angela turned back to her menu, looking slightly tense. Sam frowned deeply.

"Babe?" Sam asked.

Angela looked up at him and forced a small smile. "Yeah, Sam?"

"I'm…I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Angela sighed deeply. "No, no…it's…This is just the first time I'm hearing about it," she shrugged. "I'm just being dramatic, don't pay me any mind."

Sam squeezed her hand gently and leaned closer to her. "Babe, I _promise_ that you are the only woman for me." He murmured. "I wish to God that I could take back everything I did during that year. I love you more than anything, Angie."

"I know. I love you too, Sammy," she smiled softly. "Sorry for having a little…episode just there."

Sam chuckled and kissed her softly. "I don't want anyone else in this world—hell, I don't want anyone else in this _universe_. Only you," he replied softly. Sam pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"She's not answering," Dean interjected, obviously frustrated. "Well, here's to ghosts that aren't there." He added, pouring whiskey into his coffee mug.

"You sound kind of disappointed," Angela pointed out.

"Ah, it's better this way," Dean shrugged. "I mean, even though I wish we could see him again doesn't mean that we should."

The three clinked their coffee mugs together and drank.

"Ahh." Dean breathed. He looked around the restaurant and frowned. "Are we being stood up?"

"Yeah, let's hope that's all this is," Sam muttered.

The flask rocked slightly on the table. Neither Dean, Sam, or Angela noticed.

~/~\~

The three hunters walked towards their car. Sam and Angela were holding hands while Dean held the phone to his ear.

"Nothing?" Angela frowned.

"Straight to voicemail," Dean replied. "Something's not right."

"What's she doing on Bodega Bay?" Sam questioned.

"She's working some kind of job. She didn't really say." Dean shrugged as he took out his flask. He frowned when he noticed it was empty. "I got to get a refill."

Sam sighed. "You know what, man? Why don't you, uh, just pack it away for a while? All it does it remind us of him, you know?"

"Yeah, I thought about that, but, uh…not yet," Dean replied.

Dean walked around the car to the driver's side. Bobby was sitting in the back seat of the car, but none of the hunters could see him.

"Let's go check out Annie's hotel room," Dean suggested.

~/~\~

Dean sat on the bed looking at some of Annie's research while Sam and Angela sat at the table looking through papers. Bobby stood behind Sam and Angela.

"These go back years—disappearances never solved," Angela noted. "They stop a few decades back, then pick up again just recently. All teenagers."

"Looks like Annie found a spot a lot of them liked to poke around just before they went missing," Dean replied.

"Yeah?" Sam raised his brows."

"Yeah. Old Van Ness house." Dean replied as he got up to show them the information. "It's, uh, cheery."

"Well, the police combed the place. They always come up dry." Sam sighed.

The curtain next to Sam and Angela moved, but the three hunters didn't seem to notice it.

"Yeah, local law. Always on the ball." Dean scoffed.

"Guys…" Bobby sighed.

"So, built in 1862 by the Van Ness family…" Angela started.

"I just made that curtain shimmy." Bobby tried again.

"Who lost it in the early 1900s." Angela finished.

"Could you look in the right place at the right time?" Bobby asked.

"Put up for sale a few years back. No takers." Sam added.

"Probably 'cause it creeps their queso," Dean replied.

"Balls, this is exhausting." Bobby shook his head.

"It's just been sitting there, boarded up for ages," Sam continued. "Oh. Get this. I guess a couple months back, someone put it on one of those, uh, 'most haunted houses in America' lists."

Dean shook his head. "Let me guess—that's when the, uh, teenagers started to go missing."

"Yeah," Angela sighed.

"Okay. Now let's get rolling." Bobby suggested.

"Ah, I say we get rolling." Dean sighed.

Sam, Dean, and Angela left the room. Bobby stood up and looked at the closed door.

"Idjits."

Dean's jacket, with the flask in the pocket, was hanging over a chair. The door opened and Dean reached in to grab his jacket.

"Thank you," Bobby muttered before he flickered and disappeared.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the deserted house, shining flashlights. Bobby was behind them.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean muttered.

"Geez. My people." Bobby said, looking around.

Throughout the room, there were tons of other ghosts, all invisible to Dean, Sam, and Angela.

"Hi," Bobby greeted. "I'm Bobby, and I'm a ghost. Hoping for a little ghost orientation here. Je m'appelle Bobby."

None of the ghosts responded to Bobby.

"Chilly." He muttered,

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into an upstairs room.

"Annie?" Dean called out.

Dean dialed a number and held his phone to his ear. Angela held an EMF reader, which was flashing and making noise.

"There's a whole lot of something," Angela muttered.

A phone started ringing somewhere nearby. The three hunters walked in the direction of the sound and found a phone on the floor—most likely Annie's.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were walking through the house. They walked up the stairs as Bobby watched.

"The call to me was the last one she made," Dean sighed. "So, where the hell is she?"

"Bobby?" Annie asked suddenly.

Bobby turned around. "Annie! We've been looking for you."

"I can't believe you're here," Annie smiled softly.

"Yeah. I'm a doornail." Bobby replied. "Bad news here. If you can see me, you are, too."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Sam were walking through the house. Dean was listening to Annie's phone messages. Angela's EMF reader was flashing and making noises.

 _"Hey, Annie, I'm e-mailing you those news clippings you asked for. I…"_ the woman's voicemail played.

"We're redlining all over the place," Angela sighed. "Assume the worst?"

"Yeah, I always do," Dean replied.

"Okay. Vengeful spirit, maybe lots of them," Sam theorized. "Killing kids. Look around. No blood. No anything. Certainly no bodies."

"Well, if evil is partying here, it's got a hell of a cleanup crew," Dean muttered. "Wait, wait, wait."

"What?" Sam and Angela asked.

"Here's something," Dean pushed a button on Annie's phone. "From earlier this week."

"Okay," Sam nodded.

 _"Free me. Free me."_ The voicemail played.

Angela frowned. "Where'd that come from?"

The number on the screen read _'(…)…-…'_

"You ever seen a phone number look like that?" Dean asked.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into one of the larger rooms.

"Well, that is every square inch of this place," Dean sighed. "No bodies, no pieces of bodies—no Annie. A whole lot of sizzle and no steak."

"Well, maybe no news is good news," Sam suggested.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Meaning?"

"Meaning maybe she's just not here," Angela replied. "Maybe she's still okay."

Dean scoffed slightly. "Yeah, and what does your gut say?"

Sam sighed. "Let's just see if there's anything else in her research."

"Sam! Angie! Dean!" Annie called out as the three hunters left the room. Annie frowned when she didn't get a response.

"Honey, don't you think I've tried that?" Bobby asked. "I shouted myself hoarse."

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Dean were sitting in the car outside of the deserted house.

"Where'd Annie get her intel?" Dean asked. "Do we know?"

Dean drank from the flask and Bobby appeared in the backseat.

"Stupid flask," Bobby grumbled.

"Bodega Bay Heritage Society," Sam held up a booklet.

"Guys, come on," Bobby sighed. "All the action's back in the pool. Let's go!"

Dean started the engine and Bobby groaned.

"Dammit," he huffed.

~/~\~

"The house dates back to the mid-19th century," the historian explained. "Miles Van Ness made his fortune in the gold rush, eventually settling his family in Bodega Bay."

"Anything…unusual ever happen in the house?" Angela asked.

"Oh, over the course of a century, things are going to happen in a house," the man replied.

Bobby looked at a hanging lamp. "Tell it what to do," he muttered with a scoff.

"Some locals swear it's haunted," the historian continued.

Bobby took a deep breath and tried to touch the lamp with a finger. "Move," he demanded. Bobby's finger passed right through the lamp.

"Every village has its idiots."

"We only want the real scoop, of course," Dean replied.

"Balls!" Bobby groaned.

"Whitman Van Ness. Son and heir. Handsome, charming, dogged by tragedy all his life," the historian explained. "He lost the family fortune, then the house. It became a bordello. He lived in isolation till his death at age 40."

"He's still there," Bobby muttered.

"Who's the, uh, the bruiser there?" Dean nodded.

The historian pointed to a photo of Dexter standing next to Van Ness. "Dexter O'Connell. A convict. An extremely violent man."

"He's there, too," Bobby replied.

"Mr. Van Ness was socially progressive and took pity on him," the historian continued. "He worked as a groundskeeper. Dexter was convicted for murdering Whitman's fiancée on the eve of their wedding. Another calamitous event in the poor man's life."

"Hmm." Sam hummed.

"Thank you," Angela added.

"The house is popular this week," the historian noted.

Angela frowned. "What do you mean?"

"A lady came by the other day asking all sorts of questions."

Dean frowned. "Uh, 30s, red hair, good-looking?"

"Mm." the man hummed. "I gave her the same advice I'll give you. Stay away from the place. It's extremely unsafe."

The three hunters nodded and left.

~/~\~

Bobby looked exasperated after he failed to move a coin in the motel room.

"So, besides Whitman's fiancée…" Sam read from the photocopy of the newspaper. "Dexter O'Connell was also convicted of killing a bunch of hookers who worked at the brothel."

"He escaped before they could hang him," Angela added. "But then he returned to the house, where he was found shot to death. Why would he escape then go right back to the house where he got arrested?"

"I don't know," Dean called out from the shower. "Add that to a list of things I don't know!"

"So, what's the next move?" Sam sighed.

"You know, if I could, I'd be getting old waiting on you three to figure this out," Bobby grumbled.

Dean partly opened the shower curtain and grabbed a towel, then closed the curtain again. Bobby looked at the steamed-up bathroom mirror.

"Alright, now," Bobby muttered. "I can kill werewolves, fix a Pinto, and bake cornbread. I will be damned if I can't get Zen."

~/~\~

Dean ran his hands through his wet hair. He looked at the mirror and frowned. "Sam? Angie?"

"What?" Sam asked as he and Angela walked to the bathroom.

"Tell me one of you wrote that," Dean pointed at the mirror.

'Annie trapped in house' was written in the condensation on the mirror.

"Uh…No. No, neither of us wrote that." Angela assured.

"Well, then, who's there?" Dean asked. He looked around the room. "I said, who's there?!"

The hot water faucet on the sick turned and steam started to rise. _'B'_ and _'o'_ were written on the mirror by an invisible force.

Dean's frown deepened. "Bobby?" he asked. "Bobby?"

 _'Bobby'_ was written in full on the mirror. Bobby was standing next to the sink.

"Yes," Bobby sighed.

Dean, Angela, and Sam still couldn't hear Bobby.

"This whole time, we've been trying to talk ourselves out of it, he's been—what's he doing here?" Dean asked.

Angela picked up the flask and held it up. "Guys…"

"We don't have time for this! Get your asses back to that house!" Bobby snapped.

Dean's eyes widened. "We got to get back to that house, stat."


	38. Of Grave Importance Part 2

Dean, Sam, and Angela were taking guns out of the trunk.

"We combed the crap out of this place," Dean noted. "If Annie's in there and we didn't find her…"

"It's 'cause something didn't want us to," Sam replied.

"Awesome," Dean scoffed. "Well, let's walk right into that."

~/~\~

The three hunters walked into the house and looked around using flashlights. Bobby was behind them.

"Alright, Sam and I will check upstairs," Angela said.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

Bobby took the flask out of Dean's jacket pocket.

"Annie?" Dean called out.

"Sorry, kids," Bobby muttered. "I'm leaving the pack."

"Annie! It's Dean!" Dean called out. "And Sam and Angie!"

"Annie?" Sam and Angela called out from upstairs.

A camera fell to the ground at Dean's feet, causing him to frown. "That's not odd." He muttered, picking up the camera. "Sam, Angie, get back down here! Annie?"

Bobby put the flask in a nearby drawer. Sam and Angela came back down the stairs while Annie and Victoria stood behind Dean.

"Slimer?" Dean asked.

"What?" Angela asked as she and Sam walked over to him.

"Check it out," Dean replied, playing the recording on the camera. "Ugh, I hate these indie films. Nothing ever happens."

The three hunters watched the film. Angela frowned.

"Wait, wait," she said. "Pause it. Frame back a little bit. Stop."

Annie was visible in the recording. Dean sighed deeply.

"She's here, and not in a good way." He muttered.

Bobby stood next to Annie and Victoria. "Give them a moment. They've got a little slower since I left."

"Annie?" Dean called out.

"Got to let them know that I'm here," Annie sighed.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

"You have to do it," Annie told Victoria.

"Annie!" Angela called out.

"We can't," Victoria shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

"These three can help," Annie assured. "They just need to know that we're here."

"Annie!" Dean yelled.

Victoria suddenly appeared behind Sam, Dean, and Angela. They turned, saw her, and raised their guns.

"Whoa!" Sam yelled.

"Please," Victoria held up her hands. "I'm Victoria—Victoria Dodd."

"Where'd you come from?" Angela asked.

"Here. I was a fancy lady." Victoria replied.

Dean's brows furrowed. "A hooker?"

Victoria rolled her eyes and was about to say something.

"Uh, is Annie here?" Sam asked.

"Yes. You can't see her." Victoria replied. The three hunters looked down. "No, you're not standing on her."

"You want to just tell them?" Annie asked impatiently.

"I will," Victoria assured. "In my day we believed in polite conversation. Annie's in terrible danger. We all are."

"From?" Angela asked.

"Whitman Van Ness."

Van Ness was watching the scene from upstairs.

Dean looked confused. "But he's dead."

Victoria sighed, frustrated. "I thought you said they were good."

"Hey, I'm just processing, okay, lady?" Dean retorted. "He's dead. You're dead."

Van Ness flickered and disappeared.

"Define 'terrible danger'," Angela said.

"Whitman has great power over all of us in the house," Victoria explained. "He killed Annie. She says you can free us. Please, you must—

Suddenly Victoria screamed and burned up in flames.

Sam frowned. "Victoria?"

"I'm gonna say she was telling the truth, considering that she just…got ghost-killed," Dean noted.

"So, what?" Angela asked. "Whitman Van Ness?"

"Now we know whose bones to salt and burn. Let's go." Dean replied.

Dean walked away. Sam adjusted his gun and Van Ness slipped a key into Angela's pocket. Angela took Sam's hand in hers before they went and followed Dean.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela got into their car. Bobby and Annie watched from the window, noticing that Van Ness was in the backseat.

"Aw, hell no," Bobby grumbled as the car drove away.

~/~\~

Dean was driving while Sam and Angela looked at something online.

"Alright," Sam started. "Here we go—cemetery, the edge of town. The Van Ness family has its own mausoleum."

"Alright, we light up the bastard and finish him off." Dean nodded.

The car accelerated from about 50 miles-per-hour to about 80.

"Take it easy," Sam chuckled. "We'll get there."

Dean frowned. "Uh, that's not me."

Dean struggled to hold onto the steering wheel as it moved. Van Ness appeared next to Dean and tried to turn the wheel, causing the car to swerve. Dean managed to bring the car to a stop and he, Sam, and Angela got out.

"Why's he with us?!" Sam yelled.

"I don't know," Dean shook his head. "There's got to be something on us!"

The three hunters patted down their clothing. Angela's eyes widened when she found the key in her pocket.

"Hey, hey," Angela said quickly as she took out the key that Van Ness had planted on her. Van Ness appeared behind her and plunged a hand into her back. "Ah!" Angie yelled in pain.

Sam frowned, his eyes wide in concern. "Angie!"

Sam grabbed the key from Angela and tossed it onto the ground. Dean pulled out his gun and shot the key, causing Van Ness to vanish in a cloud of dust. Angela gasped, and Sam put his hands on her hips to steady her.

Angela looked up at Sam with wide eyes. "Did that do it?" she breathed. "Did that get rid of him?"

"I-I think so…I don't know," Sam whispered. He hugged Angela tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you okay?"

Angela wrapped her arms around Sam tightly and nodded. "I'm fine…I'm okay," she murmured.

Dean frowned. "Guys, I got a bad idea that we just snapped him back to his favorite house."

Angela pulled away from Sam ever so slightly. "Where Annie's a sitting duck."

"We got to find those bones," Dean stressed. "Come on."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked through the cemetery with flashlights. They found the Van Ness mausoleum and walked inside. Dean used a hammer and chisel on a plaque that read _'Whitman Van Ness—October 16th, 1895 to November 14th, 2935'._

Angela lit a match and threw it into Van Ness's coffin. The three hunters watched as the skeleton burned.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the Van Ness house. Bobby was sitting on the floor.

"Hi, kids," Bobby greeted.

Dean frowned and flashed the flashlight in Bobby's direction. The three hunters stared at Bobby with wide eyes.

"Bobby?" Dean breathed.

Bobby's eyes widened slightly. "Wait. You can see me?"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela continued to stare at Bobby, who was now standing.

"You're staring, you know," Bobby commented. "Annie's here, too, by the way."

The three younger hunters looked around, unable to see her.

"Hey, Annie," Angela greeted.

"H-hi, Annie," Sam and Dean added.

"Hi, guys," Annie murmured.

Bobby pointed a thumb in Annie's direction. Sam, Dean, and Angela looked around, still unable to see her.

Bobby looked at Sam and Dean. "She says you both look uglier than she remembered."

Annie hit Bobby lightly on the back, smirking.

"Bobby, h-how'd you stay here?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, well, uh…" Bobby walked to the drawer and took out the flask. He tossed it to Dean. "Suck on that, Swayze."

"That's why you never answered me," Sam breathed. "I tried calling you—the, uh, talking board, the works—but I was always alone. Dean always had that thing in his pocket. That's why the EMF only went off half the time. We thought we were going crazy."

"S-so, what happened?" Dean asked. "Did you get stuck or—or what?"

"I wanted to stay," Bobby replied.

Dean sighed. "Bobby…"

"I need to help!" Bobby defended.

"Not if it means you have to…be this," Angela replied gently.

"Well, life wasn't comfy," Bobby shrugged. "Why should death be? Now, come on. Annie and I found all the bodies. Let's put 'em to rest. And keep my damn flask away from the fire…obviously." He added as he headed to the stairs. "Well, you coming?"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were putting their things into the trunk of the car. Bobby looked at the front door of the house and then walked over to them.

"I'll miss her," Bobby sighed.

"Me too." Dean nodded.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Well, you didn't know her like I did," Bobby smirked.

Dean laughed briefly and Sam cleared his throat. Angela looked at the three men and coughed, trying to cover up a laugh.

"Well, uh…" Dean took out the flask. "Here's to Annie. She got the hunter's funeral she wanted. Kind of like the one we thought we gave you." He looked at Bobby.

"Dean," Sam sighed.

"What were you thinking, Bobby?" Dean scoffed. "You could be in Heaven right now, drinking beer at Harvelle's, not—not stuck…"

"Stuck here with you?" Bobby raised his brows. "We still have work to do. I just thought that was kind of important, Dean."

"It's not right, and you know that." Dean chastised.

"Sorry. You're right. What was I thinking?" Bobby sassed.

Bobby vanished. Dean, Sam, and Angela looked at each other and Dean tossed the flask into the trunk.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were in the car.

"So, what do you think we should do?" Angela asked.

"We did what we should do," Dean replied. "Now I don't know."

"I mean, do you think it's possible we would…I don't know…make it all work somehow?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea." Dean shook his head. "Maybe. I've never heard of it. But you know what I do know? It ain't the natural order of things. Everything's supposed to end. You know, he was supposed…and now…What are the odds this ends well?" he continued. "What are the odds?"


	39. The Girl with the D&D Tattoo Part 1

Sam was talking on the phone while Angela sat on the sofa and Dean sat on the arm of the sofa. The wall behind Sam was covered with research.

"Yeah, I hear you," Sam sighed. "Alright. Well, thanks for looking. Yep. Bye." He hung up and looked over at Dean and Angela. "So, Nora didn't see any pattern to the dig sites either," he noted, sitting down next to Angela.

"Yeah, 'cause they got nothing in common." Dean scoffed. "And I got nothing from local lore 50 miles in every direction of all of them."

"It's like they're just…old dirt." Angela sighed. "What's Dick looking for?"

Dean shrugged and took a drink from his flask. The lights started to flicker and the three hunters stood up and drew their guns. Bobby appeared and they pointed their guns at him.

"Hey, hey, go easy, you idjits," Bobby commented. "Sorry for the jump scare."

"So, how does this work, huh?" Dean questioned. "I leave the cap off and you just genie your way out?"

Bobby shrugged. "I wish it were that easy. The thing—

Bobby flickered and disappeared. Sam frowned.

"Bobby?"

Bobby reappeared. "Dammit. It's hard to stay focused. I'm still kind of worn out."

"You've been pretty busy for a dead guy," Dean noted.

"Alright. Listen," Bobby sighed. "I-I don't know how long before my next ghost nap, so let's just skip to the skinny…those numbers I gave you."

Dean's brows furrowed. "The empty lot in Cheeseville?"

"Yeah, well, it ain't gonna be empty for long," Bobby replied. "I got a gander at Dick's big plan, right before he Lincolned me. They're breaking ground—what month is this?"

"Uh, April." Angela shrugged.

Bobby sighed deeply. "Ground's broke. They're building as we're yammering. Check it out yourself," he replied. "It's alright. I mean, you guys missed it because you've been kind of busy," he added as Sam opened his laptop. "Killing ghosts the past few days. But Dick is about to get into the Soylent Green business. That site'll show you they're building a biotech lab, right? Biotech my ass." He ranted. "That sucker is a state-of-the-art slaughterhouse. And we're the beef."

"Don't you think that's a little bold, even for Dick?" Dean asked.

"I bet you no one will even notice, 'cause first, he's gonna dumb us all down with Turducken-style munchies. Make us docile." Bobby explained.

"Yeah, we haven't been to Biggerson's since the whole fiasco," Dean argued.

"Biggerson's?" Bobby scoffed. "He bought a list of joints 10 pages long."

"Ah." Dean nodded.

"Next, he's gonna cure us."

"Cure us of what?" Angela asked, brows furrowed.

"All the biggies—cancer, AIDS, heart disease," Bobby answered. "Let's just say that they got an affinity for stem-cell research."

"The, uh, Leviathan real-estate mooks building that cancer center," Dean noted.

"They're not hunting anymore. They're engineering the perfect herd." Bobby continued. "Now, we've gone up against plenty liked to eat a few folk in the woods. This ain't that. This is about knocking us off the top of the food chain. This is about them Levis living here forever, one-percenter style, while we march our dopey, fat asses down to the shiny new death camps at every corner."

Suddenly, Sam's laptop beeped. Sam frowned when he saw the new email in his inbox.

"It's an e-mail…" he muttered. "From Frank."

"Frank's alive?" Dean asked.

"That jackass, always stealing my thunder," Bobby grumbled.

"Sam, Angela, and Dean," Sam read. "If you're reading this, I'm dead…or worse. This e-mail was sent because some prince is trying to hack into my hard drive right this second. So, unless it's you, you got trouble." He continued reading. "My drive is full of compromising info. Your new aliases, hangouts, where you stored your car…"

Dean frowned deeply. "Baby?"

Angela took the computer from Sam. "Even though he encrypted the crap out of his file, he says we should assume that someone can hack into it eventually. He did put a tracking device in it." She muttered, clicking on a link in the e-mail. "Alright, let's see where Frank's drive is…"

Dean frowned when a box popped up saying that it was at Richard Roman Enterprises.

"Perfect," Dean muttered sarcastically. "It's in the middle of the Death Star."

~/~\~

Dean sighed and stood up. "Alright, well, off to Chicago." He said as he grabbed his jacket.

Bobby frowned. "No, wait, you can't just break in," he argued. "They know your mugs. What if we mailed in the flask? Then I could ghost through the joint. I mean, it's not like Dick can kill me twice."

The three younger hunters paused, refraining from saying something that could offend Bobby. Bobby frowned at the silence.

"What, you got a better plan?" Bobby questioned. "Come on. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't know how to do my damn job."

Angela sighed. "Bobby, that's Dick's office."

"I think what Angie's trying to say is, what happens if you run into Dick and, you know…" Dean added. "Go vengeful. You know it's not something you can just shake off."

Bobby looked offended at the comment. "Come on! Give me some credit. What, I'm just supposed to ride the pine?"

"Sorry, Bobby," Sam replied, pursing his lips.

~/~\~

Charlie looked at her _Star Wars_ figurines that were on a shelf as she packed. The head of the Darth Vader figurine was moving. Charlie hurried to the door, but as she opened it, Dean slammed it shut.

"It's alright," Dean assured. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Get away from me, you…" Charlie grabbed a plastic sword. "Shapeshifter!"

"Look, we're not shapeshifters," Sam assured.

Charlie slashed at Sam with the sword, breaking it. Her eyes widened.

"Geez!" Sam exclaimed.

Angela took the broken sword away from Charlie. "Look, we're not Leviathans, okay? You want us to prove it? You know what borax does to them?"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded.

"Sam?" Angela raised her brows.

Sam held out his hand and she poured borax over it. Angela did the same to Dean and herself.

"Huh?" Angela looked at Charlie. "Your turn." She added, handing Charlie the borax. Charlie poured some over her hand and Angela nodded. "Good." She took back the borax from Charlie.

Charlie looked at the three hunters. "Who the hell are you guys?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting in Charlie's living room.

"So, you're saying, you guys are monster hunters," she noted. "So, there are other monsters? Stop. Never mind. Just shh." She shook her head. "Okay, I get how you tracked the drive—straight GPS—but it's still at the office. How did you find me?"

Sam cleared his throat and opened his laptop. He showed Charlie the video footage of herself.

"Aw!" Charlie groaned. "Son of a gun jacked my webcam?!"

"Welcome to Frank," Dean replied.

"It's creepy, but I'll give it to him," Charlie sighed. "So, you're telling me everything he had on his drive is true."

"That and more." Dean nodded.

"Wait," Angela cut in. "How long did it take you to crack into Frank's drive?"

"A day or so." Charlie shrugged nonchalantly.

Angela smirked slightly. "Is there anything you can't hack into?"

"Not yet," Charlie replied.

"How about Dick Roman's e-mail?" Angela questioned.

Charlie looked confused. "Why would I…" she trailed off. "Oh. He's one of them."

"No," Sam chuckled. "Uh, he's their leader."

"So, what's the end game—steal our resources, make us some slaves?" Charlie asked.

"Planet-wide value meal. We're the meat." Dean replied bluntly.

Charlie laughed slightly. "You can't be…serious." She frowned. "Okay. Alright. Let's do this. What am I looking for?"

Charlie sat down at the table and opened her laptop.

"Well, for starters, uh, anything about archaeological dig sites," Dean replied.

Charlie looked at Dean. "Like, _Indiana Jones_ stuff?"

"All we know is that Dick has been digging all over the world, and we need to know what he's looking for," Dean replied.

Charlie sighed as she typed. "You know, I was having a really good week. I met someone, downloaded the new Robyn album. Everything was coming up me. Oh, crap."

"Look, we get it sucks," Sam started.

"No, not that," Charlie shook her head. "This. Dick's e-mail isn't on the company server. It's on a private one, in his office."

"Meaning?" Dean asked.

"Can't get into it unless you have his phone or you're at his desk." Charlie sighed, frustrated.

"So, you're saying that if we're inside Dick's office, then we can hack into his e-mail?" Dean questioned.

"You can't." Charlie scoffed. "Only someone like…But I sure as hell ain't doing it! I am doing my job and…What are the chances I see everything on that drive and Dick lets me live anyway?"

Sam pursed his lips slightly. "I think you know."

"So, I erase the drive first, protect me and you." Charlie nodded. "Then I go back to my old life, right?" she asked, looking at the three hunters. "What?"

Angela sighed deeply. "It's not that easy." She replied. "You're on Dick's radar, which means you don't have an old life anymore."

"I'm gonna die." Charlie realized. "I should have taken that job at Google."

"Look, Charlie, it's okay if you can't do it," Sam assured. "I mean, you didn't volunteer for this."

"Totally. Exactly." Charlie agreed. "But, now I volunteer."

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?"

"I got to go back in anyway to wipe Frank's drive." Charlie reasoned. "Might as well break into Dick's office, too."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"No," Charlie admitted. "But, these things are gonna eat everyone I know. What kind of douchebag stands by for that? However, I have never broken into anything in real life before, so…plan?"

"You got a Bluetooth?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Charlie nodded.

Dean, Angela, and Sam joined Charlie at the table.

"Security system—can you get into that?" Dean asked.

"I can reroute any surveillance cameras we need," Charlie replied.

"Alright. Let's start with that." Angela nodded.

Bobby was watching them angrily. They were more willing to work with a _stranger_ rather than him.

"Do you have a key card to get in the building?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah." Charlie nodded. "I can't duplicate it, but I can make a fake backing, so that…"

~/~\~

Dean joined Sam and Angela inside the van.

"How's it going?" Dean asked.

"Great, since she set this all up," Sam replied. "Um, look," he showed Dean the security footage that was on Charlie's laptop. "See this? I can put each camera on a prerecorded loop. Once I do that, she'll have 15 minutes."

"15 minutes ain't a lot of time." Dean countered.

"No," Angela agreed. "She said if it took longer to hack his desktop, then she deserved to be eaten."

Dean chuckled. "I like her."

The security footage showed Charlie standing outside the building. Dean frowned when he noticed the flask in her bag.

"Wait," Dean said. "Is that…Son of a bitch."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Look at her bag," Dean sighed.

Angela frowned. "Bobby. Wait. Y-you think he, uh—

"Hitched a ride after we told him to cool his jets?" Dean sighed. "Yeah. What the hell's he thinking?"

"He's not," Sam replied. "So, what do we do—call the whole thing off?"

Dean shook his head. "We've only got one shot at this." He replied. Dean took out his phone and put it on speaker. "Charlie, it's Dean. Are you singing?"

 _"I sing when I'm nervous,"_ Charlie's voice rang through. _"Don't judge me."_

"Judgement-free zone," Dean assured. "Listen, uh, check the side pocket of your bag."

 _"Oh. Thank you,"_ she replied. _"Mmm. Good idea."_ She added after taking a sip from the flask.

"Yeah, no problem," Dean replied. "Look, that's, uh, kind of a family heirloom. It's a good-luck charm, okay, so don't lose it."

 _"Copy that. Okay. Let's do this."_ Charlie tried to hype herself up.

Dean frowned when Charlie didn't move. "Um, Charlie? Charlie?"

 _"I'm having a hard time moving,"_ Charlie admitted.

"You can do this," Dean assured.

 _"Uh, I'm not—I'm not a spy,"_ Charlie started to panic. _"No, I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't."_

Angela took the phone from Dean. "Charlie, hey, it's Angie."

 _"I'm sorry, Angie."_ Charlie apologized. _"I'm sorry. I-I just—_

"It's okay," Angela assured gently. "Uh, listen, w-who's your favorite _Harry Potter_ character?"

 _"Uh, Hermione,"_ Charlie replied after a pause.

"Hermione," Angela nodded. "She's my favorite, too. Well, uh, alright, did Hermione run when Sirius Black was in trouble or when Voldemort attacked Hogwarts?"

"Seriously?" Dean scoffed.

Angela glared at Dean. "Shut up, Dean."

 _"No, of course not,"_ Charlie replied obviously.

"What did she do?" Angela asked.

 _"She kicked ass,"_ Charlie answered. _"She actually saves Harry in practically every book. And then she ends up with the wron_ g—

"I know, right!" Angela gushed. "I never understood her and Ron."

"Uh, babe, stay on track," Sam nudged Angela gently.

Angela nodded. "Right. Sorry. Got carried away." She smiled sheepishly. "Okay, Charlie, so she kicked ass, right? So, then, what are you gonna do?"

 _"I'm gonna kick it in the ass,"_ Charlie replied confidently.

Angela smirked proudly. "Good girl."

Dean took the phone back. "Oh, you go, dumble-dork." He teased.

Angela rolled her eyes. "At least I'm not weirdly obsessed with my car." She teased back.

When Charlie got off on floor four, Sam hit a button on the laptop so that the footage of the empty elevator would play on a loop.

 _"I'm in,"_ Charlie's voice rang through. _"I've always wanted to say that."_

"You're on the clock," Dean replied. "Move."

 _"Hey, there's a big-ass guard up here, blocking the door,"_ Charlie said suddenly. _"What do I do?"_

Dean pursed his lips. "Just wait him out."

After a short pause, Charlie replied, _"He's not going anywhere."_

"Okay, uh," Dean started. "You work there every day. Do you know the guy?"

 _"I guess,"_ Charlie replied. _"I mean, I've seen him. I've never talked to him."_

Dean nodded. "Okay, when you've seen him, does he look at you, or does he just kind of slide his eyes by?"

 _"Um…eye contact?"_ Charlie replied, unsure. _"I don't know. He always kind of smiles a bit. I don't really—_

"Good," Dean interrupted. "What you're gonna do is you're gonna walk right up to him, and you're gonna flirt your way past."

 _"I can't,"_ Charlie sighed. _"He's not my type."_

Dean paused. "You're gonna have to play through that."

Charlie sighed again. _"As in…let's just say Angie is more my type."_

The three hunters looked at each other, brows raised.

"Oh, oh." Dean realized. "Pretend he has boobs."

 _"Worse."_ Charlie deadpanned.

"Well, I don't know," Dean grumbled. "Um…Do you have any tattoos? Give him a little sneak peek there. All tattoos are sexy."

 _"Mine is Princess Leia in a slave bikini straddling a 20-sided-die,"_ Charlie explained. _"I was drunk. It was Comic-Con."_

"We've all been there," Dean replied.

"Give me that," Angela grabbed the phone. "Okay, Charlie, I'm gonna walk you through this." She explained. "Start with a smile. Relax, Charlie. You just got home, and…Scarlett Johansson's waiting for you."

 _"Hey,"_ Charlie's voice rang through. _"Bill. Charlie from IT."_

 _"Oh,"_ Bill's voice rang through. _"Burning the midnight oil, huh?"_

 _"Just like you—I mean, when you're not at the gym,"_ Charlie flirted. _"What, do you work out with all your free time?"_

 _"I try to get to the gym at least three days a week,"_ Bill replied. _"Just trying to get back to my fighting weight, you know?"_

"It shows. You look amazing," Angela fed Charlie the line.

Sam's brows furrowed, and he looked at Angela. Angela took his hands in hers and squeezed lightly.

 _"It shows. You look amazing,"_ Charlie repeated.

Angela looked up at Sam. "Relax, babe," she murmured. "Do you ever do anything else with your free time, like take a girl out for a drink?" she fed Charlie the line.

 _"You do anything else with your free time, like, take a girl out for a drink?"_ Charlie repeated.

 _"Um…yeah, yeah,"_ Bill replied, a smile evident in his voice. _"That'd be great."_

 _"Cool. Pencil that in."_ Charlie replied. _"Hey, can I ask you a favor? The ladies' room downstairs is nasty. Can I use the exec washroom to powder my nose?"_

 _"Yeah, yeah. Why not?_ " Bill replied. _"Um, it's right down the hall. It's the first door on the right."_

 _"I feel dirty,"_ Charlie whispered when she got far away enough from Bill.

"You and me both, Charlie." Angela cringed.

_"The eagle is landing. Going radio-silent."_

"Let us know when you're out," Angela replied, hanging up.

"So, guess we just wait?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean sighed.

Sam sighed and started filling jars with Power Clean. Angela and Dean were watching the security footage.

~/~\~

"Well, this is awesome," Dean grumbled. "You know what? New plan. From now on, we just stay in the van and send in the 90-pound girl."

"Dean, every chomper on Earth knows our face." Sam sighed. "How many do you think are in that building? We wouldn't make it past the lobby."

"Yeah, I know," Dean muttered. "Doesn't mean I got to be happy about sending in freaking _Veronica Mars_."

"She'll be fine…" Angela assured. "Or we'll go in."

"And get as far as we can. Damn right." Dean nodded.

~/~\~

 _"Hey, guys,"_ Charlie's voice rang through suddenly.

"Hey," Dean perked up.

 _"Sending you all the flagged dig files now."_ She replied.

Angela grinned. "Charlie, you are a genius!"

 _"I know. It's a problem."_ Charlie replied confidently. _"Dammit. Hey, Pete! Guess we're both on deadline, huh?"_

 _"How's it going?"_ Pete's voice rang through.

_"Good, good. I'll give you a full progress report in a few hours."_

_"Great,"_ Pete replied. _"Hit that deadline, right? Well, holler if you need anything."_

 _"Hey, guys, you still there?"_ Charlie asked after a few moments.

"Yeah. What the hell was that?" Dean asked.

_"Oh, just my manager, the monster."_

_"_ Leave," Dean demanded.

 _"I can't."_ Charlie sighed. _"I got to act normal. I told him I was working. Let's just finish this."_ She muttered. _"Are you seeing this?"_

"It looks like Dick stopped digging days ago." Sam frowned.

 _"Why?"_ Charlie asked, confused.

"Guess he found what he was looking for," Angela muttered. "Can you check?"

 _"Way ahead of you,"_ Charlie replied. _"Looking at travel reports, expenses…Here we go. Something in his suitcase left Iran last week. Spent the last 72 hours in armored cars and private planes. Whatever it is, it's coming here for Dick tonight. So, w-what the hell is it?"_

"I don't know," Dean shook his head. "Whatever it is, he wants it bad, which means we got to grab it, end of story."

 _"Well, it's landing at a private airport near here—crap—right about now."_ Charlie sighed. _"A courier's set to pick it up."_

"What's the exact landing time?" Dean pressed.

_"42 minutes. Can you make it?"_

Sam looking at RRE and Downey Airport on an online map.

"We can try," Dean replied. "Uh, alright, Charlie, one more favor, and then get the hell out of there."


	40. The Girl with the D&D Tattoo Part 2

Sam, Dean, and Angela were standing next to the open trunk of their car.

Sam's brows furrowed. "So, now what?"

~/~\~

_Two Hours Earlier_

Sam, Dean, and Angela were in the van talking to Charlie, who was still in the building.

 _"A courier's set to pick it up,"_ Charlie's voice rang through.

"What's the exact landing time?" Dean asked.

_"42 minutes. Can you make it?"_

"We can try. Uh, alright, Charlie, one more favor, and then get the hell out of there." Dean replied.

_"What do you need?" Charlie asked._

"More time." Dean sighed.

 _"Then let's get you some…"_ Charlie muttered. _"Travel department's e-mailing Dick. Suitcase still en route, but diverted by weather and will be 30 minutes late. I'll finish mopping you guys off the drive and get the hell out of Dodge."_

"Call us when you're clear," Dean instructed.

 _"Text you from the border, bro,"_ Charlie replied.

~/~\~

"Hey," the Leviathan said.

Sam was disguised as a baggage holder. He crouched down, hiding his face, and took a gray case from the plane.

"Watch it," the Leviathan snapped.

Sam took a blue case from the baggage cart and put it on the ground, and put the gray case on the cart. The Leviathan picked up the blue case. Sam took the gray case off the cart and walked away with it. He was joined by Dean and Angela, who were also disguised as baggage holders.

~/~\~

_Now_

Sam, Dean, and Angela were standing next to the open trunk of their car.

"So, now what?" Sam asked.

"See what we've won," Dean replied.

Dean opened the gray case. Inside was something wrapped in cloth, which Dean uncovered.

Angela frowned. "Did we just…steal a—a hunk of red clay?"

"That's a good question," Dean muttered. "Why don't we answer that a few thousand miles away from here, though? Now, where is Charlie?"

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Dean suddenly crashed through the glass doors. The security guard from the foyer approached.

"Dean, he's one of them!" Charlie exclaimed.

Dean turned and tossed borax onto Pete. Pete yelled and brown smoke rose from his face. Angela punched the security guard. Pete continued to sizzle and scream. Sam picked up Charlie easily.

"That would explain it," Dick noted. "You're hanging with the wrong crowd, kiddo."

Dick started forward as Sam, Dean, and Angela moved towards the door. Bobby appeared in front of Dick.

"Not so fast, Dick," Bobby snarled.

Bobby shoved Dick hard. Dick flew through the air into a large display picture and fell to the ground. The three hunters watched as Bobby flickered, then reappeared and looked back at them before disappearing again.

Dick growled and sat up. "Alright, enough! Show yourself. Let's do this like _real_ monsters." He snarled, trying to sit up. He was shoved back down. Dick laughed maniacally. "You got to do that again. That tickled."

"Guys, come on. Come on!" Angela yelled.

Angela, Dean, and Sam, carrying Charlie, ran out of the building as Dick stood up.

~/~\~

Dean was driving. Sam sat in the passenger seat while Charlie and Angela were in the back.

"Charlie, talk to us," Dean said. "You okay?"

"No," Charlie groaned. "Why didn't you kill him?!"

Sam sighed. "'Cause we can't yet. But we will."

"The really evil ones always need a special sword," Charlie muttered. "Oh, okay. I'm gonna pass out now." She added, leaning against Angela as she fell unconscious.

~/~\~

A man entering the bus terminal held the door open for Charlie, Angela, Dean, and Sam, who were coming out. Charlie's arm was in a sling.

"Thank you," Charlie smiled at the man.

"Thanks." Dean nodded.

"I left your dumb flask on the back seat, by the way," Charlie noted. "Worst good-luck charm ever."

Dean handed Charlie her bag. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Charlie replied.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, listen, um, we can't thank you enough."

Charlie pursed her lips. "Actually, you can. Never contact me again, like, ever. Deal?"

"Deal," Angela nodded, gently hugging Charlie.

"Keep your head down out there, okay?" Dean instructed.

"This ain't the first time I've disappeared," she replied with a smirk. "You think my name is really Charlie Bradbury? Please. So, good luck saving the world." She rose her hand in a Vulcan salute. "Peace out, bitches." She smiled as she handed her bag to the bus driver. "Thanks a lot."

"She's kind of like the little sister I always wanted." Angela smiled.

Sam sighed. "We got to talk." He noted as they started to walk away from the bus.

"What, you mean before we get back to the car and the flask?" Dean asked.

"Exactly," Sam nodded. "So, what the hell happened back at the lobby?"

"Man, if I had a free shot, I'd have bitch-slapped the hell out of Dick." Dean sighed.

"Yeah, but, I mean," Sam stopped and turned to face Dean and Angela. "Charlie got her freaking arm broken!"

"He didn't mean to do it," Angela reasoned.

"Exactly." Sam nodded. "He's not in control, not about Dick. That was vengeful-spirit crap."

"I know." Dean sighed. "But, it's still Bobby."

"But if he goes there, he won't be anymore," Sam countered. "And then we won't be able to pull him back. And then what are we supposed to do?"

Dean sighed deeply and nodded. "I know. Look, let's just figure out what that thing we stole is, and then we'll figure out what the hell to do with Bobby."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam, then walked off. Angela took Sam's hand in hers, and they followed Dean after a moment.


	41. Reading is Fundamental Part 1

Sam unwrapped the piece of clay in the case and Angela took it out and put it on the table. Dean walked over with a tool-box.

"That's a lot of fuss over a caveman Lego," Dean commented.

"Yeah," Angela agreed. "Well, whatever Dick wants is bricked up inside that."

Dean took a small mallet out of the tool-box, handed two pairs of safety glasses to Sam and Angela, and put some on himself.

"Alright," Dean muttered. He hit the clay once, and thunder started to clap. Dean hit the clay again. Lightning flashed, and thunder clapped. "That sound like somebody saying, 'No, wait—stop', to you?"

"Uh…Yeah. Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "Oh, well," he shrugged, hitting the clay several more times.

Dean continued to hammer at the clay until it broke. He lifted an inscribed stone tablet out of the broken clay casing. He frowned in confusion as he turned the tablet over.

~/~\~

Dean, who was lying on the ground, woke up. The news was playing on the radio.

 _"At a loss to explain the continent-wide storm system that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, blanketing a good part of the nation in freak lightning displays…"_ the reporter explained.

Dean stood up, rubbing his eyes. Sam was sitting at the table looking at his laptop, and Angela sat on his lap.

 _"Here with Dr. Marlon Price of the US Meteorological Survey at a press conference earlier today,"_ the reporter continued.

 _"Baffled?"_ Dr. Price scoffed. _"No, I'm not baffled. Frankly, I'm offended. This is not the way weather behaves."_

 _"Power outages and related damages to electronic equipment have been reported from as far as Cape Cod…"_ the reporter continued.

Dean washed his face at the sink. He looked up when he heard a metal cup move. "Bobby? Bobby, that you?"

"Think so," Sam replied, holding up a flashing EMF meter. "But that whole adventure at Roman's seems to have drained his batteries."

"So, what?" Dean sighed. "We start the storm heard 'round the world?"

"When we broke this thing open," Angela gestured to the tablet. "Last night, every maternity ward within a hundred-mile radius got slammed. Looks like anyone in the last month of her pregnancy went into labor."

"Hmm," Dean picked up the tablet. "This one goes out to all the ladies. So, heavyweight signs, omens—what do we got?"

"I assume it's writing," Sam shrugged. "But Angie and I have never seen anything like it, ever. And it doesn't match anything in any book or online."

"Alright, so, big daddy chomper lands here, he grabs himself some Dick…and then he starts secretly underwriting university departments, pouring money into digs—all for this," Dean recapped. "Why?"

"No clue," Angela replied. "We do know that he will be tearing new ones until he gets it back, though." She added as she got up. "Look, we got to take a minute, hole up somewhere safe, find out what we've got."

"Rufus's cabin, then?" Dean suggested.

"Yeah." Angela and Sam agreed.

"This time, I'm doing the shopping," Dean replied.

Angela's phone started to ring. "It's Meg." She frowned. "What?" she answered.

 _"Angie,"_ Meg greeted. _"Just a little FYI call. Your boy's awake."_

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?" she asked. "Cas is awake," she told Sam and Dean.

"When?" Dean asked as Angela put Meg on speaker. "When?"

 _"Last night about eight,"_ Meg replied.

"And you waited till now to call us?" Dean snapped.

 _"I've been busy with Cas,"_ Meg defended. _"He's just a tad different than when he dozed off, 'kay?"_

Dean frowned. "What do you mean, different?"

 _"Hey, Seacrest, guess what—not a nurse,"_ Meg sassed. _"Just playing one on TV. Want answers? Start driving."_

The line went dead, signaling that Meg had hung up.

"Great," Sam sighed. "So, Indiana?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Eight o'clock last night." He realized.

"Yeah. Same time we opened up that thing." Sam nodded to the tablet.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were walking down the hallway of the hospital.

"We raced all the way here, and now I don't know," Dean started. "I can't say I'm fired up to see what's left of the guy."

"You think he remembers it all?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "That, and I'm guessing whatever kind of hell baggage he lifted off of your plate. It's not gonna be pretty."

"Hey," an orderly walked over. "Excuse me, but it's way past visiting hours."

"It's okay, Abel." Meg cut in. "I've been expecting them."

Meg led the three hunters to Castiel's room. Castiel was just looking out the window.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted.

Castiel turned around. "Hello, Dean. Angela. Sam."

Sam smiled slightly. "Hey, Castiel."

Angela walked over to the angel and hugged him. "Hey, Cas," she smiled softly. "Look at you, walking and talking."

Castiel pulled away and smiled at Angela. He pointed a finger at her. "Pull my finger."

Angela's smile fell, and her brows furrowed. "W-what?"

"My finger—pull it," Castiel replied.

Angela pursed her lips and pulled Castiel's finger. There was a crash, and the light went out, and the glass shattered. Castiel just laughed while Meg turned on a lamp.

"Okay, just hang on, Cas," Dean sighed. "Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second."

"So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are," Sam noted.

"Yes. Of course." Castiel replied, turning to face them. "Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of the flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add."

"You might want to add a little Thorazine," Sam muttered.

"Right?" Meg agreed. "He's been like the naked guy at the rave ever since he woke up. Totally useless."

Castiel smiled at Meg. "Will you look at her? My caretaker. All of that thorny pain. So beautiful."

Meg rolled her eyes. "We've been over this. I don't like poetry. Put up or shut up."

"Okay," Angela cut in. "So, Cas, you said you woke up last night?"

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "I heard a ping that pierced me, and, well, you wouldn't have heard it unless you were an angel at the time."

Sam handed Castiel a bag containing the tablet. "That's also when we opened this."

Castiel took the tablet out of the bag. "Oh. Of course. Now I understand."

"Understand what?" Angela asked, confused.

"You were the ones," Castiel replied vaguely. "Well…I guess that makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Dean pressed.

"If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the Earth, it would end up being you three," Castiel replied. "Oh, I love you guys," he added, pulling the three hunters into a hug.

"Oh. Uck. Okay. Alright. Okay." Dean muttered.

Sam patted Castiel briefly on the back. "Yeah, yeah," he pulled away from Castiel. "You—you said something about 'The Word'. Is that what's written on there?"

Castiel looked at the three hunters. "Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft?" he asked. "I know for a fact the females were _not_ consulted about that."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Cas, please, we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see what?"

Castiel looked at the tablet. "This is the handwriting of Metatron."

"Metatron?" Angela scoffed. "You're saying a _Transformer_ wrote that?"

Dean looked at Angela and shook his head. "No. That's Megatron."

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?"

"The _Transformer_ —it's Megatron," Dean clarified.

"Metatron," Castiel repeated. "He's an angel. He's the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed."

"And that's the Word of God?" Sam asked.

"One of them, yes," Castiel confirmed.

"Uh…Well, what's it say, then?" Sam pressed.

"Uh…Tree?" Castiel replied, looking at the three hunters. "Horse? Fiddler crab? I can't read it. It wasn't meant for angels."

"Okay, this all sounds bad," Meg interjected. "What are you three jackasses doing with the Word of God?" she asked before she turned to Castiel. "Let me see that thing."

Angela stepped closer to Castiel. "Back off, Meg."

Meg narrowed her eyes. "Come on, it's my ass, too."

" _Back off_ ," Angela repeated.

"Dammit!" Meg snapped. "Enough of this 'demons are second-class citizens' crap!"

"Don't like conflict." Castiel cut in. Castiel disappeared and the tablet dropped the floor, breaking into three pieces.

Sam blinked. "Uh…"

"What the hell was that?" Dean yelled.

"You heard him," Meg replied. "He doesn't like conflict. He's down in the dayroom now. I guarantee it."

"Alright," Dean sighed. "I'll go handle Cas. Sam, Angie, will one of you please pick up the Word of God?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

Dean sighed and walked out of the room. Angela leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.

"What are you guys caught up in now?" Meg asked.

Sam started putting the pieces of the tablet into the bag. Angela ignored Meg.

"I deserve to know." Meg continued.

Neither Sam nor Angela replied. Meg clenched her jaw.

"Okay, fine," Meg pursed her lips. "I'll hit the road, then. Let me just go get my angel."

Meg walked out of the room. Sam and Angela went after her, leaving the bag on the floor in Castiel's room.

"Meg, what are you talking about?" Angela asked. "Stop."

"We both call, who do you think Cas will come to?" Meg asked. "I'm guessing me. You heard him—thorny beauty, blah, blah. I'm the saint who stayed with him. He owes me. His words."

"Yeah, what about what he owes us?" Sam retorted.

"Well, work on him a little." Meg shrugged. "Maybe he'll start crushing on you, too, hot stuff."

"What are you gonna do with a broken angel?" Sam scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

"I'll take power where I can get it. I've got myself to look out for." Meg replied.

They all heard a noise and headed back to Castiel's room.

"What the hell?" Angela asked, looking around.

The bag containing the tablet was gone.

~/~\~

Dean was walking down a hallway. He stopped at the doorway to the dayroom and looked at Castiel, who was sitting at a table with his back to Dean.

~/~\~

Kevin was running with Sam and Angela in close pursuit.

"Hey!" Sam yelled.

Kevin zig-zagged to avoid Sam and Angela. "No, stop! Leave me alone!" Kevin begged. "Aah!"

Meg put out an arm and knocked Kevin to the ground. "Not a demon nor a chomper. What the hell are you?"

"I'm a…K-Kevin Tran," he stammered. "I'm in advanced placement. P-p-please don't kill me."

"We're not gonna kill you," Angela replied. She hauled Kevin to his feet and tried to take the bag away from him.

Kevin clutched the bag tightly. "I'm sorry."

Angela frowned and kept trying to pull the bag from Kevin's grasp.

"I-I'm sorry…I…I don't—I don't know why, but I can't let go of this." Kevin stammered.


	42. Reading is Fundamental Part 2

Dean walked over and stood in front of Castiel. "You realize you just _broke_ God's Word?"

Castiel looked away, and Dean sat down at the table opposite him.

Dean sighed. "It's Sam's thing, isn't it?" he asked. "You taking on his, uh, cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right?"

"Well, it took…everything to get me here," Castiel replied.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about, man?"

Castiel sighed. "Dean, I know you want different answers."

"No, I want you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans." Dean retorted. "Do you remember what you did?"

Castiel just held up the board game _'Sorry!'_ and shook it once. The board and pieces appeared on the table, set up ready to play. Castiel set the box aside and looked at Dean.

"Do you want to go first?"

~/~\~

Kevin was sitting on the bed in Castiel's room. Sam and Angela stood in front of him while Meg stood behind him.

"You really stepped in it, kid. Oh, man." Meg smirked slightly.

"All I know is, this is—it's for me," Kevin sighed. "I'm supposed to keep it."

"Good luck," Meg muttered.

Sam's brows furrowed slightly. "But you don't know what it is?" he asked. Kevin just shook his head. "Open it," Sam instructed.

Kevin unzipped the bag and withdrew two pieces of the tablet. He fitted them together and the knitted back together with a brief flash of white light. Both Sam and Angela frowned in confusion.

~/~\~

Dean picked up a _'Sorry!'_ card.

"You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it," Castiel noted. "No offense, but I was backing the Neanderthals," he added as Dean moved a marker on the board. "Because their poetry was…just amazing. In perfect tune," he picked up a card. "With the spheres. But in the end, it was you—the," he moved a marker. "Homo sapiens sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants."

"Cas, where can we find this, uh, Metatron? Is he still alive?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry," Castiel replied. "I—I think you have to go back to start."

Dean sighed and moved a marker. "This is important." He stressed.

Castiel motioned for Dean to pick up another card. Dean did so and moved another marker.

"I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad," Dean added. "You understand that?"

Castiel picked up another card. "We live in a 'sorry' universe. It's engineered to create conflict." He replied. "I mean, why should I prosper from…your misfortune?" he asked as he put down a marker and moved one of Dean's back to start. "But these are the rules. I didn't make them."

Dean clenched his jaw slightly. "You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall!"

"Dean…It's your move," Castiel replied.

"Forget the damn game!" Dean snapped, pounding a fist on the table and swiping the board to the floor. "Forget the game, Cas."

Castiel pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"No," Dean shook his head. "You're playing _'Sorry'!_ "

~/~\~

Kevin was holding the tablet in his shaking hands. The tablet was whole again. "It's writing."

"Yeah. Yeah, we get that." Sam replied.

Kevin frowned. "What's Leviathan?"

Angela's brows raised. "What? You can read it? Is that what it says?"

"Sort of," Kevin replied. "It hurts a little. Like looking through somebody else's glasses, but I think it…it's about Leviathan, how it came to be. God locked him up far away, right? Like in jail…because they're so…they're…they're real, aren't they?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, Kevin. They—they are. And they're here." He replied. "Does it say anything about how to kill them? 'Cause that's—that's kind of been a problem."

"I don't know." Kevin shook his head. "It's not like reading, reading. It—it's hard to focus on it for too long."

Meg's eyes turned black, and the lights flickered. "Guys. Something's up."

"What?" Angela asked.

Kevin looked at Meg and screamed. He scrambled backward on the bed.

"Kevin, hey, hey, hey, Kevin," Angela walked towards the bed slightly.

The glass lampshade broke. A woman appeared in the doorway.

"Demon," the woman snarled.

There was the sound of angel wings, and a man appeared suddenly. The woman made a hand motion and Meg went flying into the wall.

~/~\~

Dean sat at the table and watched as Castiel picked up the game pieces. Castiel stopped and looked up.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Sam and Angela," Castiel replied. "They're talking to angels."

~/~\~

"A demon whore and a Winchester…again." The woman snarled.

Sam took a step towards Kevin.

"Step away from the Prophet!" the woman commanded.

Kevin looked confused. "Who, me?"

The woman looked at Kevin. "Sole keeper of the word on Earth, we are here to take you."

"What do you mean, 'take'?" Kevin asked.

The woman looked at the man. "Kill everyone in here except the Prophet."

The man held out an arm and Meg slashed at him with a knife. The man cupped his palm, which was shining with white light.

"Where did you get that?!" the woman snapped at Meg.

There was a rustling of angel wings and Castiel appeared.

"Castiel?" the man asked.

Castiel smiled. "Hi."

"You're alive?" the man breathed.

"You." The woman glared at Castiel.

"Hello, Hester," Castiel greeted.

"You smote _thousands_ in Heaven," Hester replied. "You gave a big, scary speech. Then you were gone. What the hell was that?!"

"Rude, for one thing," Castiel replied.

"Where have you been?" the man asked Castiel.

Castiel sighed. "Oh, Inias. Hester, I…I know you want something—answers." He replied. "I…I wish it could be that…There are so many things I can teach you. I can offer, um, well, perspective! Here," he pointed a finger at Hester. "Pull my finger. Uh…Uh…Meg will—will get another light, and I'll—I'll blow it out again. And, well, this time, it'll be funny, and—and we'll all look back and laugh."

Hester looked at Castiel in horror. "You're insane."

"Hey," Dean said, standing in the doorway. "Heads up, Sunshine." He added, putting his hand on an angel-banishing sigil he'd drawn on the wall. The angels vanished in a flare of white light. "All angels blown to their corners," Dean noted. "We got like three, four hours tops."

Angela pointed to the knife Meg was holding. "Meg, where did you get that?"

Meg shrugged. "A lot of angels died this year."

"What's happening?! What is happening?!" Kevin screamed.

Dean looked at Kevin, then at Sam and Angela. "What is that?"

"It's, uh…Kevin Tran," Sam replied. "He's, uh, in advanced placement."

~/~\~

Kevin was sitting on the bed holding the tablet. "So, these Leviathans—these monsters are real. And angels with wings?"

"No," Sam replied. "Uh…no wings. No anything."

"No junk. Junkless." Dean leaned against the windowsill, "So, Kevin, you can, uh, read the chicken scratch on the God rock, huh?"

"Uh, I…"

"That is back in one piece, I see," Dean added. "And you're saying that there's some sort of a 'how to punch Dick' recipe in there somewhere?"

"I-I don't know what you're saying," Kevin replied. "But it seems kind of like an 'in case of emergency' note. What did they mean by 'prophet'?"

"Oh, no," Dean groaned. "Really?" he asked Sam and Angela.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's what the angel said." Angela sighed.

"I don't want to be a prophet." Kevin cut in.

"No. You don't at all." Dean agreed.

"We've got to start running and hiding," Meg noted. "Or do you want to tangle with those wingnuts twice?"

"I'm sorry," Dean looked at Meg. "Did you say 'we'?"

"I'm on the angels' radar, now," Meg replied. "You don't think I need a little safety in numbers?"

Dean sighed. "Alright, we'll go to Rufus's cabin. Kid can do his book report there."

~/~\~

Kevin was asleep in the back seat of the vehicle, which Dean was filling up with gas.

~/~\~

Meg was reading a magazine at the counter as the clerk put her purchases in a bag. Sam and Angela walked to the counter with an armful of groceries and coffee. A commercial played on the TV in the store.

 _"We know you're hungry. Why not enjoy Biggerson's homemade pie?"_ the commercial played. _"It's like a salad bar, but with pie!"_

 _"Now back to our top story on news 10, the search for the missing honor's student,"_ the news anchor said.

 _"The victim in this case reportedly insisted he'd been chosen by birthright,"_ the detective explained. _"Causing speculation that a cult may be behind the abduction. The family car is also missing. Federal authorities have been placed on alert."_

Sam and Angela watched the TV as the clerk bagged their items.

 _"Again, 16-year-old honor student Kevin Tran reportedly taken from his Michigan home early yesterday,"_ the news anchor said.

~/~\~

Dean hung up the gas pump as Sam and Angela walked over.

"Hey," Angela handed Dean a coffee. "So, we got another issue. Uh, looks like Kevin's gone missing…and it's gone federal." She explained. Dean just shook his head. "Yeah. Where's Meg?" Angela asked.

"I'm here," Meg walked up.

"Great, so now we're kidnappers?" Dean sighed.

"Not if we shut up about it," Meg replied. "Why? Who'd we kidnap?"

~/~\~

Kevin was asleep in the backseat with Meg. Angela sat up front in between Sam and Dean. Kevin woke up and looked at Meg.

"Oh, God," he breathed.

Meg frowned. "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Just…my life…my future…" he replied as Meg's phone started to ring. "My girlfriend…my mom's car."

Meg answered her phone. "Yeah. Yeah, Castiel. It's me."

"Cas?" Dean asked. "Where? Where is he?"

"Shut up," Meg told Dean.

 _"I'll stop speaking,"_ Castiel's voice rang through.

"No. No, Cas. You talk." Meg replied.

 _"I'm in a place called Perth,"_ Castiel replied.

"Perth?" Meg's brows raised.

"Perth? As in Australia?" Dean asked.

"What dogs?" Meg asked. "He says he's surrounded by unhappy dogs." She told Dean.

 _"They're chasing a rabbit around…"_ Castiel added.

"Oh. Okay. He's at a dog track in Perth." Meg explained.

 _"I'm surrounded by large unhappy dogs."_ Castiel continued.

"Yeah, they're unhappy 'cause the rabbit's fake," Meg replied. "Listen, we're on highway 94, north of St. Cloud, Minnesota, just passing mile marker 79."

Suddenly Castiel appeared in the backseat in-between Meg and Kevin.

"Aah!" Kevin yelled.

"Kevin, this is Castiel," Meg introduced.

"You're one of the angels?" Kevin asked.

Castiel touched a finger to Kevin's nose. "Boop." He said. "Meg, are you hurt?" he turned to her.

"Shut up," Meg replied.

"Cas, what happened back there? Who were those guys?" Angela asked.

"They're from the Garrison—my old Garrison," Castiel replied. "Looks like Hester's taken over. We were assigned to watch the Earth. Often, it was boring. The wars were very boring and the sex—you know, the repetition. Anyway, I was, uh…I was their captain. Isn't that strange?"

"Cas, why are they pissed at us now?" Sam asked.

Castiel ignored Sam and looked at Meg. "You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable. They can only think in ovals."

"Cas, don't make me pull this car over!" Dean snapped. "Why are angels after us?"

Castiel frowned. "Are you angry? Why are you angry?"

"No," Dean sighed. "I-I'm…Please, can we just stay on target?"

"There is no reason for anger," Castiel replied. "They're only following protocol. If the Word of God is revealed, a keeper of the Word will awaken, like this," he touched Kevin's nose. "Hot potato right here."

Kevin slapped Castiel's hand away. "Please stop that."

"Anyway," Castiel continued. "Garrison code dictates you take the keeper to the desert to learn the Word away from men."

"What kind of sense does that make?" Dean scoffed. "He has to tell us so that we can use it."

"That's God and his shiny red apples," Castiel replied.

"I can't live in the desert," Kevin cut in. "I-I'm applying to Princeton!"

"Okay, you know what? Screw the Garrison." Dean sighed. "We need the tablet to end Dick Roman's 'Soylent Us' crap."

"If you want the Word, you'll have to duck Hester and her soldiers," Castiel explained.

"Yeah, you're in our corner, right, Cas?" Sam asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I don't fight anymore. I watch the bees."

~/~\~

Castiel was drawing a symbol on the wall with chalk. "Let's leave off angel-proofing sigils or I'll be expelled, too."

"As long as we're invisible to your Garrison buddies, it works for me," Sam replied.

Dean and Kevin walked downstairs.

"I'm sure you're pretty hungry," Dean noted. "So once we get settled in upstairs, we'll get some dinner going."

Kevin came to a halt at the foot of the stairs. Dean cleared a space on the table which was covered with knives.

"This looks like a sex torture dungeon," Kevin noted. "Is this a sex torture dungeon?"

Dean picked up a scythe and sighed. "No, this is not a sex torture…Get over here. Sit down and read, would you?"

~/~\~

Sam and Angela sat down near Castiel.

"You seem troubled," Castiel commented. "Of course, that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it."

"Okay," Sam started. "Um…right now we're just wondering about you."

"What about me?" Castiel asked. "You're worried about the burden I lifted from you, Sam."

"I think I was done for," Sam replied. "Do you see Lucifer?"

"I did at first," Castiel nodded. "But, that was…It was a projection of yours, I think, sort of an aftertaste. Now I more see…well, everything."

Meg watched from across the room.

"It's funny," Castiel continued. "I was—I was done for, too."

Meg left the room silently.

"The weight of my mistakes, all those lives and souls lost, I…I couldn't take it, either. I was…I was lost until I took on your pain. It's strange to think that, that helped, but—

"I know you never did anything but try to help." Sam interrupted. "I realize that Cas, and I'm grateful."

"We're all grateful," Angela added. "And we're gonna help you get better, okay? No matter what it takes."

Castiel smiled softly. "What do you mean, 'better'?"

~/~\~

Dean was asleep in the chair and Kevin was writing at the table. His hands started to shake and his vision blurred. Kevin stood up, hyperventilating.

"Kevin," Dean said with his eyes still closed.

"This is all too much." Kevin shook his head. "What's happened to my life? I'm just a kid from Michigan. I didn't want to be a Word-keeper!"

Dean opened his eyes and stood up. "Looks like we're brown-baggin' it." He muttered, picking up a brown paper bag.

"I am not prepared to factor the supernatural into my," Kevin started as Dean put the paper bag over his face. "World view."

"Okay, there we go," Dean patted Kevin on the back. "That's it. That's it. Just breathe. Take it easy."

Kevin held onto the bag and breathed into it.

"Oh, I don't know, man." Dean sighed. "What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking, 'why me?', 'cause the angels—they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care." He explained. "Seems like when they try, it just…breaks them apart."

"I just want to be the first Asian-American President of the United States," Kevin replied.

"Then do your homework," Dean replied as he sat down again and closed his eyes.

~/~\~

Meg walked into the cabin and was brought to a sudden halt by a devil's trap. Sam turned on the lights.

"Didn't expect to see you back." He commented.

"Yeah, not without the King's army," Dean replied. He gestured towards Meg. "Knife."

Meg handed the knife over to Dean. "Typical." She replied. "I save our bacon, and you're sitting here, waiting by a devil's trap. Seriously, I just killed two of Crowley's men. I could have gone the other way on that."

"It's true, incidentally," Castiel interjected. "There's other demons' blood on that blade."

"Look, I'm simpler than you think." Meg sighed. "I've figured one thing out about this world—just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. Lucifer and Yellow Eyes—their mission was it for me."

"So, what?" Dean raised his brows. "We should trust you because you wanted to free Satan from Hell?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "I'm talking 'cause', douchebag, as in reason to get up in the morning. Obviously, these things shift over time. We learn, we grow. Now, for me currently, the cause is bringing down the King. And I know we'll need help to do it."

"Crowley ain't the problem this year," Dean replied.

"When are you gonna get it?" Meg retorted. "Crowley's always the problem. He's just waiting for the right moment to strike. I know what I'm supposed to do. And it isn't screw with Sam, Dean, and Angela or lose the only angel who'd go to bat for me."

Angela walked up and broke the devil's trap with her foot.

"This is good," Castiel smiled slightly. "Harmony and communication. Now our only problem is Hester."

Meg frowned. "What?"

"Well, here, we're hidden from the Garrison, but when you killed a demon, you put out a pretty clear beacon," Castiel explained.

"We need better angel-proofing, now," Meg stressed.

Suddenly, the door broke open. Hester and a man appeared in the room.

"You took the Prophet from us?!" Hester snapped.

"I'm—I'm sorry?" Castiel tried.

Hester shook her head, disgusted. "You have fallen in every way imaginable."

"Please, Castiel," Inias begged. "We have to follow the code. Help us do our work."

"He can't help you," Dean cut in. "He can't help anybody."

"We don't need his help…or his permission," Hester replied.

Hester nodded to Inias, who nodded back. There was the sound of angel wings and Inias disappeared.

"The Keeper goes to the desert tonight," Hester commanded.

Inias reappeared with Kevin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean frowned. "Back off. We're actually trying to clean up one of your angel's messes! You know that."

"He's right," Castiel agreed. "An angel brought the Leviathan back into this world, and—and they begged him. They begged him not to do it."

"Look, just give us some time, okay?" Dean asked. "We will take care of your Prophet."

Hester glared at Dean. "Why should we give you anything…After everything you have taken from us?" she challenged. "The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost! For that, you're going to pay." She walked towards Dean.

"Please," Castiel begged. "They're the ones we were put here to protect."

"No, Castiel," Hester replied.

She backhanded Castiel and he fell to the ground. Inias and the other man each held up two fingers to stop the three hunters from going to Castiel's aid.

"No more madness!" Hester punched Castiel. "No more promises!" she punched him again. "No more new Gods!" she held up an angel blade.

"Hester! No!" Inias grabbed her arm. "Please! There's so few of us left."

Hester punched Inias in the face with the hand holding the blade. "You wanted free will," she told Castiel. "Now I'm making the choices."

Hester raised the knife. White light blazed from her chest and she fell to the ground, revealing Meg.

"What?" Meg shrugged. "Someone had to."

~/~\~

Dean walked over to Sam, Angela, and Kevin, who were sitting at the table. Kevin gave Angela the notebook in which he had translated the tablet.

"Thanks, Kevin," Angela said sincerely. "Not a lot of people could have handled this."

"You doing alright there, 'chosen one'?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Kevin smiled softly.

"Are you ready, Kevin Tran?" Inias asked. "Bring the Keeper to his home. We can watch over him there." He instructed.

Inias, the two other angels, and Kevin disappeared.

Dean sighed. "I couldn't find Meg anywhere."

"Yes, well, she does enjoy laying low," Castiel replied.

Angela opened the notebook and read over it. "Here. Leviathan cannot be slain but by the bone of a righteous mortal washed in the three bloods of the fallen. Uh…It says we need to start with the blood of a fallen angel."

Angela, Sam, and Dean looked at Castiel.

"Well, you know me," Castiel smiled, holding out a small bottle. "I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters."

Castiel handed the bottle, which was filled with blood, to Dean.

Dean frowned. "What are you gonna do, Cas?"

"I don't know." He smiled. "Isn't that amazing?"

Castiel disappeared. Angela went back to reading the notebook.

Dean sighed. "Well, let's get to work."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were in bed that night, unable to sleep. Angela turned so that she was on her side, facing Sam.

"Let's get married tomorrow," Angela said suddenly.

Sam looked at her, brows furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Tomorrow," she repeated. "Let's get married. There's a chapel nearby."

"We don't have rings, y-you don't have a dress, we don't have anything planned," Sam replied, confused.

"Sammy," Angela stopped him. "Pretty soon we're gonna be taking on Dick Roman. Realistically, there's a chance that we might not make it out of this one alive. I don't need the rings or the dress, I just want to be married to you. We can get the rings if we make it out alive."

"I just want it to be perfect," he replied softly.

Angela smiled at him. "I'm marrying you, Sam. It's already perfect." She replied. "So, what do you say? I'll put on some nice clothes, you'll put on your FBI suit, and we'll get married tomorrow, yeah?"

Sam pressed a loving kiss to her lips. "We're getting married." 


	43. I Do

Angela woke up to her face being peppered with kisses. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was met with Sam's smiling face.

"Good morning," Angela murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning, soon-to-be Mrs. Winchester," Sam grinned down at her.

Angela grinned and gently combed her fingers through Sam's hair. "Mrs. Winchester has a nice ring to it."

Sam leaned down and kissed Angela lazily. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she draped her arms over Sam's shoulders as she melted into the kiss. After a few moments, Sam pulled away slightly, and Angela's eyes fluttered open.

"I never thought I would have been able to get married," Sam admitted softly.

"Same here," Angela murmured. "You make me the happiest woman alive, Sammy."

"You make me the happiest man alive," Sam replied sincerely. "I don't deserve you, Angela Morgan."

"Will you stop saying that?" Angela chastised softly. "You are a great man, Sam. I love you, and nothing is ever gonna change that."

"I love you, Angie, so much," Sam replied, kissing her deeply. He smiled slightly as he pulled away. "Now, what do you say we take a quick shower and then go get married?"

Angela's grin grew. "Well, what are you waiting for, Winchester? Let's go."

Sam got up and threw Angela over his shoulder. Angela giggled gleefully as Sam carried her to the bathroom.

~/~\~

Angela stood in front of the mirror in the room she shared with Sam. She was dressed in a white short-sleeved maxi dress. Her hair was loosely curled, and she wore mascara and a tinted lip balm. Sam leaned on the doorframe and was wearing one of his FBI suits.

"You look gorgeous," Sam said suddenly.

Angela turned to look over at Sam and grinned. "Thank you," she replied sincerely as she walked over to him, her dress swaying as she moved. "You look great, Sammy."

"Not as good as you do," Sam replied, hugging Angela's waist. "You ready to go?"

Angela nodded excitedly and pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek. "Let's go get married!"

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked out to the car hand in hand. Dean was sat in the front seat, a slight smile on his face. This was all he ever wanted for Sam—some sense of normalcy. They had all been through so much crap throughout their lives, and Sam and Angela deserved this more than anyone.

"You kids ready?" Dean asked as the couple got into the back seat together.

Angela held Sam's hand and squeezed it lightly. "More than ready."

Dean smiled and started up the car. He pulled out of the driveway of Rufus's cabin and started driving towards the chapel that was only a few blocks away.

~/~\~

Dean pulled up to the chapel and had barely stopped the car when Sam and Angela got out. Dean smiled slightly and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He followed the couple into the chapel and towards the Reverend's office.

Angela held Sam's hand as she knocked on the Reverend's office door. Sam and Angela were practically bouncing with excitement as they waited for the Reverend to open the door. After a few moments, the door opened up, revealing Reverend Paul Wood.

"Can I help you two?" Reverend Paul asked, looking at Sam and Angela.

"We…we were wondering if you could marry us?" Angela asked, gesturing between herself and Sam.

"Yeah, um, I'm leaving for the Navy shortly, a-and we wanna get married before I leave," Sam lied.

"And you have a witness?" Reverend Paul asked.

Dean caught up to the couple and waved his hand at Reverend Paul. "Right here, Padré," Dean grinned.

Reverend Paul smiled at the three hunters. "Alright, well, we'll work out the details real quick and then head to the sanctuary."

Angela and Sam looked at each other, excited grins on their faces.

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, Dean, and Reverend Paul stood in the sanctuary. Sam and Angela stood across from each other, Dean stood next to Sam, and Reverend Paul stood on the step above Sam and Angela.

"Dearly beloved," Reverend Paul started. "We meet here today to witness a sacred ceremony: the union of Angela Morgan and Sam Winchester. With great reverence, we come together to celebrate the love and devotion shared by these two children of God that stand before us. We are especially blessed to be joined today by family. The Bride and Groom are honored you could be here to participate in this important occasion." Reverend Paul gave a small smile to Dean. "As the Bible reminds us in Corinthians, 'If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.'"

Sam and Angela had broad smiles on their faces, their eyes full of love. All they could see in this room were each other.

"Over the course of their relationship," Reverend Paul continued. "Angela and Sam have developed a strong bond based on shared values and mutual respect. With a solid foundation from which to grow, they have made the decision to take an oath of marriage and spend the rest of their lives together. Let us revel in the joy and love on display here today. May we treasure these memories as Angela and Sam, under the eyes of God, get set to begin their new life together." He smiled as he spoke. Reverend Paul looked at the couple. "Angela and Sam, as you learn to live as one; you will encounter many challenges that can help you grow. Spend time doing the things that make life precious—cooperate with each other, always make time to laugh together, and never lose appreciation for the love that you share. Remember, too, to adhere to the vows that you will make today. Along the way, there will be challenges, but the strength of your bond will offer you protection against life's storms. Always make your relationship a priority and continue to nurture each other. Through a commitment to love, and with the power of faith, together you will be able to navigate any obstacles that come your way."

Angela could barely contain her excitement. She couldn't believe that she was finally marrying the love of her life. Throughout her life, she never expected to get married—to be honest; she thought she would be dead by now, but here she was, with Sam, her soon-to-be husband.

"Under the eyes of God, I solemnly bear witness to these matrimonial proceedings." Reverend Paul recited. "I will now finalize the sacred covenant you shall both enter into on this day. Angela and Sam, I invite you to express your sacred vows to one another. Please face each other as you declare these vows before God and in the presence of your family." He instructed. "Angela, you may start."

Angela smiled up at Sam. "I, Angela Morgan, take you, Sam Winchester, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I promise to keep you by my side through good times and bad, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you, honor you, and love you for the rest of my days, until death do us part."

Reverend Paul smiled. "Sam now is the time for your promise."

Sam grinned as he looked at Angela. "I, Sam Winchester, take you, Angela Morgan, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to keep you by my side through good times and bad, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you, honor you, and love you for the rest of my days, until death do us part."

The Reverend smiled at the couple. "Angela and Sam, please join hands," he instructed. "Under the eyes of God, Sam, do you take Angela to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to support her completely and love her unconditionally, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Sam replied without hesitation.

Reverend Paul looked at Angela. "Under the eyes of God, Angela, do you take Sam to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to support him completely and love him unconditionally, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Angela grinned up at Sam.

"Very well, let us proceed." Reverend Paul nodded. "By the power invested in me, by the state of Montana, I pronounce you, Sam and Angela as husband and wife, lawfully wedded before God. Sam, you may kiss the bride."

Sam wrapped his arms around Angela's waist and pulled her flush against his body. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, pouring everything he had into the kiss. Angela's eyes fluttered closed, and she wrapped her arms around Sam's neck. Dean wolf-whistled as Sam and Angela kissed. After a few moments, the couple pulled away.

Reverend Paul grinned. "It is with great honor that I officially present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Sam and Angela Winchester!"

Sam pulled Angela in for another kiss as Dean clapped, a broad smile on his face. Dean never thought he'd be able to see Sam get married. After all the crap that the kid's been through—he sure as hell deserved it.

Sam pulled away ever so slightly. "I love you, Mrs. Winchester."

Angela grinned at the new title. "I love you too, Mr. Winchester."


	44. There Will Be Blood Part 1

Sam sat at the table and Angela sat on his lap. Sam was typing on his laptop while Dean was sitting on the sofa reading the notebook in which Kevin had translated the tablet.

"Okay," Dean sighed. "I have read this more times than the _Playboy_ I found in Dad's duffel."

Sam's brows furrowed slightly, and he looked at Dean. "Anna Nicole?"

"Anna Nicole," Dean smirked. "Oh, the good—they die young, huh?"

Sam exhaled, a mixture of a smile and a grimace on his face.

"Look, we can read this till our eyes bleed," Dean sighed. "It ain't getting any clearer."

"Okay. Then what does it mean?" Angela asked.

"Uh…Cut off the head, and the body will flounder." Dean read.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"Okay. Well, I think we all agree that, uh, the head is Dick." Dean replied. "Right?"

"Right." Sam agreed.

"So, the bottom line is, we go grab the stuff, and we mix ourselves a weapon," Dean explained. "End of story," he added, taking a drink from a beer bottle.

"Look, we're all for killing Dick," Sam replied. "I'm just saying, what then? I mean, what about the rest of the Leviathan? What, are they gonna just…drop dead?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Dean shrugged.

"Maybe?" Sam raised his brows. "Maybe is good enough for you right now?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "One problem at a time, alright?"

"Okay. But, it's not a crazy idea to try and figure out what the catch is before we go crashing the gate." Angela reasoned.

"Maybe this is the catch," Dean replied. "God's not telling us every detail. You know? The word is from God. I don't know how much better it's gonna get."

Bobby was standing behind the sofa, invisible to the three hunters.

~/~\~

Dean was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. As he spat into the sink, the mirror above him misted over. When Dean exhaled, his breath was visible. He turned around.

"Hey, Bobby," he greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Stronger than ever," Bobby replied. "Now, while you three have been chasing your tails, I've been thinking on that weapon."

"Wait a second," Dean stopped him. "Don't you think you should be saving your strength?"

Bobby's brows furrowed. "For what?"

Dean sighed. "I'm just saying you might want to slow down. You don't look so hot."

"I'm in the Veil. My Brad Pitt days are over." Bobby sassed. "Now, the kid says that the only way to kill Leviathan is with a bone washed in the three bloods of the fallen. It's got to be from a human as light and good as the Leviathan are hungry and dark."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed slightly. "Good luck with that."

"The rest is doable, and doable now," Bobby stressed. "You've already got the fallen angel blood. Now, next up is blood from the ruler of fallen humanity. Now, the best I can tell, that's Crowley. Numero tres is the father of fallen beasts."

"Which means…?" Dean prompted.

"You got to bleed an Alpha."

"But, they're all dead," Dean frowned. "I mean, every one we found, we rounded up for Crowley, and then Cas whammied them all."

"Well, then, make this Cas's problem, too." Bobby shrugged.

"Cas ain't exactly in the problem-solving mode, Bobby." Dean sighed.

"Then Crowley!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Alright, I get it. I get it." Dean replied.

"Do you?!" Bobby snapped. The mirror behind Dean cracked. "I'm just sayin'. I have faith that you three will figure it out. Relax. I'm fine." Bobby assured. "Just got a little carried away."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were watching a Sucrocorp video on Sam's laptop.

 _"Here at Sucrocorp, your well-being is our number-one priority,"_ the voiceover said. _"Sucrocorp—eat well, live well."_

Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey and leaned over Sam's shoulder. "Little FYI," he started. "Bobby's officing out of the John these days."

Sam cringed. "Uh…awkward."

Angela frowned deeply and looked at Sam. "Do you think he saw what we did in the shower?" she muttered.

Sam frowned deeply. "Oh, God…"

Dean cleared his throat as he sat down at the table opposite Sam and Angela. "Uh, he does have some ideas about the weapon."

Sam's brows raised slightly. "Really? Well, uh, he may be just in time," he turned the laptop around to show Dean an article titled _'Roman Acquires Sucrocorp'_.

"Roman acquires…" Dean read. "What's Sucrocorp?"

"They make food additives," Angela replied, "Namely high-fructose corn syrup. That crap in—well, it's in just about everything—um, soda, sauces, bread."

"Don't say 'pie'," Dean's eyes widened slightly.

"Definitely pie," Angela replied.

"Bastards," Dean grumbled. "So, now what? Roman's moved past restaurants?"

"And into grocery stores, Gas n' Sips, vending machines," Sam nodded.

"What can we do about it?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "Short of going Al Qaeda on their trucks and plants, there's nothing we can do about it."

Suddenly the laptop slammed shut, causing the three hunters to flinch.

Dean pursed his lips. "Like I said, uh, Bobby's got some ideas."

~/~\~

Dean set a bowl down on the table, which was set up with chalk symbols, a bottle of blood, and candles. He sliced his hand with a pocketknife and dripped his blood into the bowl.

"Et ad congregandum eos coram me," Angela recited.

Sam lit a match and tossed it into the bowl. Flames rose up from the bowl and Crowley appeared.

"Hello, boys, Bambi." Crowley greeted. "Mazel tov," he looked at Sam and Angela.

~/~\~

"So, that's what all the 'rumble, rumble' was about," Crowley noted. "Who translated it for you?"

"Never mind." Dean glared. "You gonna give us the blood or not?"

"Happily," Crowley replied, earning a surprised look from Dean. "But not quite yet. I'm all for chopping Dick, but I can't have you running around with a vial of my blood, now, can I? You know the sheer number of nefarious spells my enemies can use that blood for?"

"Well, then when?" Dean questioned.

"Last. After you've got all the other components." Crowley replied. "Most difficult, the angel part, I'm assuming. Given your role in their little apocalypse, I can't imagine the choirboys upstairs are wetting their vestments to do you—what's the word—a solid. Unless, of course, you have an angel up your sleeve."

"Well, that'd be convenient, but, uh, no," Angela replied.

"Don't worry about it," Sam told Crowley. "We'll get the angel blood one way or another. We just need you to be ready next time we call."

"Fine," Crowley replied. "Oh, here's a tip. I have it on good authority there's one Alpha still among us."

"Whose authority?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Mine," Crowley replied. "Wily character, that Alpha vampire. Somehow made good his prison break before Cas went nuclear on the place."

"And you know this how?" Angela questioned.

"Keep your friends closer, your enemies, blah, blah." Crowley shrugged. "Needless to say, I keep tabs. He moves around…quite a bit. But, I have an inkling I know where to start the Easter-egg hunt. Happy trails." He added before disappearing.

"Okay. Where, jackass?!" Dean yelled.

Suddenly, flames rose on the table, causing the three hunters to turn around. As the flames died down, they saw that words had been carved into the table.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Hoople, North Dakota."

"Piece of paper would've worked," Angela muttered.

~/~\~

Dean was leaning against the trunk of the car as it filled with gas. Sam and Angela leaning against the passenger side. Sam had his arm around Angela's waist.

"Hey," Sam called out to Dean. Sam made a motion with his hand to indicated drinking from the flask.

Dean took the flask out of his jacket pocket and put it in the car. Dean then hung up the gas pump and he, Sam, and Angela walked towards the store.

"Did he seem angry?" Angela inquired.

"Angry? Of course, he's angry," Dean replied obviously. "If you were Bobby, wouldn't you be?"

"But was he showing signs of fatigue, like—like fritzing?" Sam asked.

Dean paused. "No, actually, it was just the opposite. He said he never felt stronger."

Sam sighed deeply. "That's what Angie and I were afraid of."

~/~\~

"The stronger he gets, the closer he comes to going full vengeful spirit," Angela said as they walked into the store. "That's reality. We need to talk about what we're going to do with him."

Dean's brows furrowed "Do with him?"

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"Three weeks ago, you were—you were talking about how this could work," Dean reminded. "And now—now you want to go Kevorkian on his ass?"

"We're just saying that the lore doesn't have a single real-life example of _Casper the Friendly Ghost_ ," Sam explained. "It's all basically poltergeists until a hunter comes along…"

"Yeah, well, the lore sucks," Dean complained.

"We're talking pure hatred, Dean," Angela replied. "No humanity. I mean, he could…kill…possess people. I mean, Bobby could burn this friggin' building down. Look, if he goes off the rails—

"Hey," Dean interrupted.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Check out that guy over there." Dean nodded. "He seem a little out of it to you?"

The three hunters looked at a man who was pumping mustard onto a hot dog.

"I-I don't know." Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"What about Paula Deen over here?" Dean gestured.

The three hunters looked at a woman who was staring at a refrigerator containing beer.

"Yeah, they—they look like, uh…" Angela frowned as she looked around. "Like those Turducken people."

"It's starting." Sam sighed. He picked up a can and read the ingredients. "It's the corn syrup. Everything in the store is laced with it."

Dean picked up a packaged slice of pie and frowned. "Everything?"

Sam and Angela walked down the aisles, Dean following behind.

"Hey, guys, I'm gonna go into toxic shock, okay?" Dean stressed. "I-I…I need my road food!"

"That's what Roman is banking on," Sam replied.

"Hey. Hey." Dean held up another packaged pie. "This one says 'natural'. Th-th-that means it's safe, right?"

Angela took the pie and put it back on the shelf. "I hate to break it to you, but corn syrup is natural, technically."

Dean's frown deepened. "Well, then, what the hell are we supposed to eat?"

Sam held up a basket containing bananas and bottled water.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Sam sat in the front seat of the car while Bobby sat in the back. Dean was looking through a pair of binoculars.

"It's totally dark," Dean noted. "I can't see inside."

"Well, should we wait for daylight?" Angela asked.

"Hell no, we're not waiting," Bobby replied. "I'll scout it. See if we need to bring in the big guns."

"I don't know," Sam frowned as Bobby flickered and disappeared. "Look, Bobby…"

Sam, Dean, and Angela looked at the empty back seat. Dean looked at the house through the binoculars again. Bobby reappeared.

"Okay," Bobby started. "Place is clear. But, there's something you're gonna want to see."

~/~\~

Bobby, Dean, Angela, and Sam walked into a large room of the house. Dean, Angela, and Sam were carrying machetes. They noticed three bodies on the table.

"Careful," Dean warned.

Dean leaned over to look at one of the bodies, which had pointed teeth and was badly burned around the mouth and neck. The next body was also badly burned on the lower half of its face. The hunters looked at each other in confusion.

~/~\~

Dean looked at Bobby. "You know a way to kill vamps with battery acid?"

Bobby shook his head. "Only way I know is beheading."

"Well, something didn't agree with them." Angela cut in. "Hey. Check out that wall. Something seem weird to you guys?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Let's see if we can find a switch or a lever or something."

"Don't need one," Bobby replied, walking through the wall.

Sam moved books on a bookcase. He picked up one titled 'How to Serve Man'.

"Hey," Sam held up the book for Dean and Angela to see. Sam pressed a button that was behind the book.

Concealed doors in front of Dean and Angela sprung open, revealing Bobby and Emily. Emily quickly got to her feet as Sam, Dean, and Angela entered the room. Emily, who was wearing a floral pink nightgown and holding a teddy bear, took a step back against the mantelpiece.

"Guys. Machete." Angela said.

The three hunters sheathed their machetes.

"Hey," Dean said gently. "Look. We're not gonna hurt you. Okay?" he added. Dean showed Emily his teeth. "No fangs. See?"

"We just want to talk," Sam assured.

~/~\~

Emily sat on a chair in the main room, holding a cup of tea. Dean's jacket was around her shoulders.

"I was eight," Emily started. "My mom left me at the playground while she ran to the store. A man approached me and said I was the prettiest girl there. And I've been living with these…things…ever since. At least until now."

"Do you have any idea why?" Angela asked curiously.

"I'm one of his special girls," Emily replied. "All the others, it was their job to make sure I was ready for the Alpha, whenever he came. Wash me…give me my IV bags every day. It's my only food. So my blood's pure."

Dean's brows furrowed. "They've been doing this for, what, 12 years?"

"Virgins are a delicacy," Emily explained. "He always has at least one of us on hand."

"Well, don't worry, okay?" Sam replied. "We're gonna get you back to your mother."

"Think she remembers me?" Emily asked.

"Of course she does," Sam assured. "Don't you remember her?"

Emily just shook her head.

"Hey, these, uh…these guys," Dean turned towards the dead vampires on the table. "They, uh, friends of yours?"

"They take care of the Alpha when he's here. Or did." Emily replied.

"What happened to them?" Angela asked.

"A week ago, they came back from what they said was an easy hunt," Emily answered. "Three humans just came, didn't put up any fight. But when they started on them, the vampires screamed in pain. The ones who ate died immediately."

"And the ones who didn't?" Sam questioned.

"There was only one," Emily replied. "When he saw what happened, he moved to animals. He's out hunting as we speak."

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Never heard of vamps being allergic to humans before."

"You think maybe it's the corn syrup?" Angela proposed. "I mean, think about it. The Gas n' Sip was lousy with stoners. All ripe for the picking."

Dean nodded. "She did say it was an easy hunt."

Sam turned to face Emily. "Do you know where the Alpha is now?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe." She played with the hem of her nightgown. "He has a place he goes when something's wrong. He calls it his retreat."

Sam took out his phone. "Alright."

Emily looked at the phone curiously. "What is that?"

"That's, uh, that's Sam's douche tracker," Dean replied. "Helps us find the Alpha. All we need's an address."

"I don't know," Emily replied. "But I remember things that maybe can help."

"That's okay," Angela smiled gently. "Just do the best you can."


	45. There Will Be Blood Part 2

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked out of the store. Sam was carrying a bag of fresh fruit and vegetables.

"I can't do this, guys! I can't live on rabbit food. I'm—I'm a warrior." Dean complained.

"Dean, you'll be fine," Sam chuckled.

"You don't know that," Dean grumbled.

"So, what's next on the list?" Angela asked, holding Sam's free hand.

"Well, if we're bum-rushing the Alpha, then we're gonna need dead man's blood, which means a morgue," Dean replied. "Or…"

Sam's brows furrowed. "Or what?"

Sam and Angela followed Dean's gaze to a man sitting on a nearby bench, drinking from a large soda.

"Forget the morgue," Dean replied. "We are _swimming_ in vamp poison!"

"Excuse me, sir," Angela said as they walked up to the man. "Hi. We, uh, we're with the… Red Cross? See, we have an emergency shortage." She flashed her FBI badge. "And we're gonna need you to…" she trailed off as the man looked vacantly at her. "You're not getting a word I'm saying, are you?"

"Hey," Dean snapped his fingers in front of the man's face. He sat down next to the man. "Hold out your arm. We need your blood."

Sam's eyes widened. "Dude!"

The man held out his arm. Dean smiled smugly at Sam.

"Alright, Sam," Dean took out a syringe. "Tap the keg."

"Here?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, Sam, look around," Dean replied. "It's friggin' Woodstock. Everybody's hopped up on the brown acid. We don't need the song and dance. Give him a little prick."

Sam sighed and handed Angela the bag of groceries. He took the syringe from Dean and sat down on the bench on the other side of the man and pushed the needle into the back of the man's hand.

"Oww!" the man complained. "That hurts. This is for Hurricane Katrina, you said?"

"Yes," Dean nodded. "Yes, I did."

"So, guys, look, uh…When we get there…" Angela started as Sam drew blood from the man.

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

Angela glanced at the car. Emily was in the back seat.

"Bobby's gonna have to hang back." Angela sighed, catching Dean's look. "Do you disagree?"

"He ain't gonna like it," Dean argued. "I mean, he helped us in getting Emily."

"Look, I have to agree with Angie," Sam sighed. "We're Team Bobby, too. Okay? But there's a reason we left him in the car with Emily. You know that. The more action he sees, the more chance he gets to spin out."

Dean sighed. "Alright, fine. So, we'll keep him off the front lines, and he can just, you know, keep calm and carry on, right?"

A police car drove slowly behind them. War's _'Why Can't We Be Friends'_ blared from the speakers.

"Well, and if he can't?" Angela asked, glancing at the police car.

The sirens started to blare and Sam hurriedly put the syringe away. The car drove off and the man continued to slurp on his soda.

~/~\~

Angela sat in between Sam and Dean in the front seat of the vehicle while Emily sat in the back. Angela rested her head against Sam's shoulder.

"When they hauled you off to vamp camp, do you remember how long the drive was?" Dean asked Emily.

"We left at night. Got in before dawn." She replied.

"So, six, seven hours?" Angela asked.

Emily nodded. "I think so, yes."

"Do you remember any highways?" Sam asked.

"No. We only took back roads."

"Okay." Sam nodded. "So, figure they averaged 45 miles per—

"Couldn't have been more than 300 miles." Angela finished.

"Right." Sam nodded.

"What direction were you going?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I'm sorry." Emily replied.

"Oh, that's okay," Sam assured. "Em, you're doing great. Um…is there anything else you remember?"

"Bells." She replied, earning confused looks from the hunters. "As we pulled up, I heard these loud bells."

"It was still dark out?" Angela asked.

"You thinking church?" Dean asked.

"No, that's too early." Angela sighed.

"It could have been a monastery," Sam noted. "Monks get up at 4 AM to pray."

"Ugh," Dean muttered. "Can't get laid. Can't sleep in. A friggin' tragedy."

Sam looked up something on his phone.

"Okay, so, Alpha's camping next to a, uh, monkey house," Dean smirked, looking at Sam and Angela for their reactions. He cleared his throat. "How many we got in range?"

"Looks like one," Sam replied. "Just outside, uh…"

The drove past a sign that said, 'Welcome to Missoula, Mt'.

~/~\~

The car was parked outside the monastery gates.

"This is where he took me," Emily confirmed.

Someone appeared to be patrolling the grounds and another person was on the roof.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

Emily nodded. "What now?"

"We'll get you someplace safe. Circle back and Ginsu these leeches." Dean replied as he started the car.

~/~\~

Emily sat on the bed watching television while Dean packed a duffle bag. Dean walked over to Sam and Angela and held out two syringes.

"Alright, here we go. 10 ccs of vamptonite," Dean said, earning a look from Sam and Angela. "It's a thing." Dean shrugged.

"What's a Kardashian?" Emily asked suddenly.

Dean paused. "Oh, that's, uh…just another bloodsucker." He replied. Emily looked worried and Dean frowned. "No, it—it's…a joke." He walked over to the safe.

"Here," Angela smiled at Emily. "If we're not back by dawn, call this number—Jody Mills. She's a friend." She handed Emily a slip of paper.

"She'll take care of you," Sam added. "Here, use this phone."

"You gotta hang here," Dean muttered as he put the flask in the safe. "For your own good. Capiche?"

"Sam, Angela?" Emily smiled at the couple. "Thank you."

"You bet," Sam replied.

Dean opened the door and it slammed shut. He, Angela, and Sam looked at Emily.

"It was the wind." He lied. "Chill out, Bobby. We'll be back soon." He muttered.

Dean opened the door again and he, Angela, and Sam left the room. Bobby stood near the door inside the room.

~/~\~

The three hunters walked down the motel hallway.

"Well, he didn't take that very well." Angela sighed.

"How'd you think he was gonna take it?" Dean retorted.

Sam accidentally ran into a cart being pushed by a maid.

"Excuse me," the woman smiled.

"Sorry," Sam replied.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were sitting in the front seat of the car, which was parked outside the monastery gates.

"Well, this time of day, most of them would be catching z's," Dean noted. "They won't know what hit them."

Sam didn't respond, he just stared out the window.

Angela frowned. "Babe, you alright?"

Sam sighed deeply. "Are you guys sure you just want to charge in there, machetes blazing?" he asked. "Last time, it took a dozen hunters to take down the Alpha. And most of them didn't make it out."

Dean pursed his lips. "Yeah, well, you got a better idea?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked up to the front door of the monastery.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Dean muttered.

Sam held up a finger, signaling for Dean to be quiet. They climbed the stairs and Sam pushed on the front door, which was unlatched.

"Guys," Sam whispered.

"Maybe we're too late," Dean replied.

As Sam stepped inside, someone grabbed him from just inside the door.

"Sammy!" Angela yelled.

Both Dean and Angela lunged after Sam. Two vampires waiting behind the door grabbed them.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were brought into the room by three vampires and stood at the other end of the table with the vampires behind them.

"The Winchesters," the Alpha smirked. "I'm intrigued."

Emily entered the room, causing the three hunters to frown in confusion.

"Emily." Sam breathed.

Emily walked over to lean on the Alpha's chair. "Hi, Sam." She smiled.

"Wow," Dean scoffed. "For a girl raised in a basement, you're a hell of an actress."

"You were gonna hurt my daddy," she defended.

"Hmm." The Alpha hummed.

"Wow." Dean shook his head. "You get a trophy in Stockholm Syndrome. And sorry to burst your bubble, but, uh…we weren't. Sam here had a better idea."

"We're here to talk. That's it." Sam assured.

The Alpha laughed. "Now that my guys have taken your blades and your syringes of tainted blood. Is that what you mean?"

"Well, we, uh…figured you might hold a grudge." Dean shrugged.

"And why would I? Because you captured me, tortured me, sold me to the King of Hell?"

"That was more our grandpa." Dean defended.

The vampire standing behind Dean grabbed him and slammed his head against the table. Dean fell to his knees and grunted as he got back up.

"Thank you. That was awesome." Dean muttered.

"I'm going to peel off your faces and drink you slowly." The Alpha promised.

"Just listen," Angela pleaded. "You need us!"

"Oh, yes. I am thirsty!" the Alpha growled.

"The plague! We know what it is!" Angela exclaimed. "What do you know about Leviathan?"

"A bit." The Alpha smirked.

"You know they're poisoning the food supply?" Sam asked.

"Roman didn't mention that when we met for dinner last fall." The Alpha countered. "We made lots of plans. We are on excellent terms, he and I."

"You sure about that?" Dean asked. "Did he mention that he was going to…Maui wowie the human population?"

"Oh, of course." The Alpha nodded. "He said grabbing a snack would be easier than ever."

"He said that you'd all live together, didn't he?" Sam asked. "You really believe him? You think your children are dying by accident? There is pesticide in the formula!"

"It suits you to think so." The Alpha replied. "You need me on your side."

"Look, we're not the ones burning from the inside out," Angela stressed. "Think about it. Whatever deal he made with you was crap! Trust us!"

The Alpha furrowed his brows. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we can stop Dick," Sam assured. "Stop all of it. We just…We need your blood—for the weapon."

The Alpha laughed. "So, now you want to prevent the extermination of the vampire race?"

"No," Dean replied. "But it beats going down with you."

Suddenly there was the sound of a door opening.

"Allan, darling…" the Alpha greeted. "Come."

Allan walked over and stood on the other side of the Alpha's chair.

"Well, the creep gets creepier," Dean muttered.

The Alpha looked at Allan. "What's wrong."

"Edgar's here," the boy replied.

Dean, Angela, and Sam looked at each other. The Alpha touched Allan's jacket in dismissal and the boy left.

"Wow, what a funny coincidence." Dean sassed. "Alright, we need soap, uh, cleanser, anything with borax in it. We need knives."

"Put them in the study." The Alpha instructed.

Sam frowned. "What? No. No, wait."

"Word of advice," the Alpha smirked. "You do not live through centuries of fire and ice and continental divide…by jumping to conclusions."

The vampires pushed the three hunters towards the door.

"Okay. Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean tried.

"You're making a mistake! Listen! Wait!" Angela pleaded.

The Alpha looked at Emily. "Never hurts to get the story first."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were pushed into the study.

"Hey," Dean said. "Hey!"

The vampire closed the door, ignoring Dean.

The three hunters looked around the study. Bags of blood were in a refrigerator cabinet while empty bags hung from medical stands.

~/~\~

Dean tried to open the locked door of the study. "Anything?"

"Nothing," Sam sighed.

"You think Edgar's here for the same reason we are?" Angela asked as they walked over to Dean. "I mean, look, if they figured out that we're here to get Alpha blood for a weapon…"

"I think any way you slice it, you got _Pac Man_ and _True Blood_ in the same room and that's bad news," Dean replied. "I mean, he's not stupid. Why the hell do you think he locked us in here?"

"Dean, we're his enemy. I mean, they're like monster cousins or something." Sam argued. "Who would you give the benefit of the doubt to? Man, you know what? Maybe the Sucro is poisoning the vamps on accident. Maybe they'll fix it."

"I think you got the oldest monster on Earth thinking that he can hold his own because he always has," Dean muttered.

Sam sighed. "Edgar's gonna eat him alive."

"Yeah," Dean pursed his lips.

"Hey," Angela held up a needle that was attached to one of the empty blood bags. "You think you could pick a lock with this, babe?"

Sam frowned and took the needle from Angela. "But, Angie…We gave up all our vamptonite."

Angela smirked slightly. "Did we?" she asked, taking a syringe out of her boot.

"Kid, you are a genius," Dean smirked.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Sam were walking down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, a vampire grabbed Sam from behind. Angela turned and plunged the syringe into the vampire's neck, causing it to scream. The vampire's flesh started to burn, and he fell to the ground, dead.

Angela's brows shot up. "Wow."

"Vamptonite." Sam breathed.

"Friggin' vamptonite." Dean agreed. "Alright, we need knives. There's got to be a prep room or a kitchen somewhere. Come on."

~/~\~

Dean advanced on Edgar from behind. Edgar turned to face Dean, his face returning to normal. He caught Dean's arm, knocking the machete Dean was holding to the ground. Edgar grabbed Dean's lapels. Sam and Angela came up behind Edgar, and Angela cut off his head.

Dean nodded at Angela in thanks, breathing heavily. "Grab a glass. We're juicing this freak."

"No!" Emily cried.

"Stay back!" Dean yelled.

The Alpha sent Dean flying over the table. "Leave her alone. She's been through quite enough."

Sam scoffed. "Now, that's rich…coming from the guy who took her off the swing-set."

The Alpha glared at Sam. "Do you want to do this fight? Or do you want my blood?"

The Alpha sat down at the head of the table and sliced his wrist with one of his long fingernails. He let the blood drip into a glass, then rose and offered the glass to Sam.

"For taking care of Edgar. Now go."

Sam paused and looked at the Alpha. "What about the little boy?"

"Are you joking?" the Alpha asked incredulously.

Angela raised her brows. "Do we look like we're joking?"

"How many other kids you got in there, you freak?" Dean glared.

"At the moment, just him." The Alpha replied, sighing. "Emily…help Allan with his coat. He's leaving with Sam, Angela, and Dean. Now, take it."

Sam took the glass and the three hunters turned to walk towards the door.

"What? No, 'thank you'?" the Alpha asked. "Oh, right, right. Your flesh is crawling. All you really want to do is kill me. You hate having to wait and come back and try again."

"Pretty much," Dean replied. "I wouldn't leave that head too close to that body for too long."

The Alpha smirked. "See you next season."

"Looking forward to it," Dean replied.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were walking down the motel hallway.

"Let's never do that again." Dean sighed. "Cops thought we took that kid."

"Long as he gets back to his folks, I don't care what they thought," Sam replied.

"We had to jump out a freakin' window, man," Dean muttered.

Dean saw that the door to their room was ajar. The three hunters took out their guns. Dean opened the door and turned on the light, noticing the cracked mirror.

"Bobby." Dean sighed. "Bobby?"

"Guys?" Angela called out. She showed the boys the open door of the safe. "He's gone."

~/~\~

"I'm getting trace bits of EMF, but it's fading fast," Sam commented. "And Bobby's probably been gone three or four hours. He's got the flask…How the hell are we supposed to track him? Look, I hate to say this…"

"Well, then don't. He's gone." Dean replied. He laughed briefly and sighed. "How could he do this…now? I mean, we've got half the freakin' weapon, we're almost there."

"It's not him. I mean, he's not thinking." Angela replied gently.

"So, what, we just keep going while he's out there like this?" Dean asked.

"Do we have any other option?" Sam asked. "I mean, it's what he'd want us to do. Right?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Yeah, him, and Frank, and Cas, if his marbles were in the bag. It's a good thing we got Crowley in our corner." He added. "Right? Seeing as how it all comes down to him. What could possibly go wrong?"


	46. Survival of the Fittest Part 1

"Alright. Exit's in three miles." Sam directed.

"I still say this is a bad idea," Dean replied.

"Dean, it was _your_ idea," Angela reminded. "And it was the best one either of us had."

"I said it as a joke," Dean argued.

"It was a bad joke—good idea." Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, only because we got no magic spell, no book—nothing on how to find a freakin' righteous bone," Dean grumbled.

"We can call Castiel again," Sam suggested.

Dean sighed. "Dude, _on my car_ , he showed up naked…covered in bees."

Sam pursed his lips. "Yeah, I'm not really sorry I missed that."

Angela snuggled closer to Sam. "We were a little preoccupied." 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned on the radio.

 _"The price of stock hit an all-time high following Roman's acquisition of Sucrocorp,"_ the man said. _"I say Roman's a buy."_

 _"Got to disagree with you there,"_ a woman replied. _"I'm gonna call him a 'wait and watch'."_

 _"Come on, Lawshe,"_ the man groaned. _"You're killing me!"_

 _"Hear me out,"_ she replied. _"This is a new sector for Roman."_

 _"That's right,"_ the man agreed. _"He's holed up at Sucrocorp headquarters right now."_

_"So, sit tight. This—_

Dean switched off the radio. "Holed up at Sucrocorp, huh?"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the crypt.

"Well, I guess if we can't find a righteous bone in a friggin' nunnery crypt," Dean muttered.

Sam held open a large book. "Alright. Here—listen to this. Sister Mary Benedict, uh, taught the learning-impaired and died at age 23."

"Eh, it's a little young," Dean replied. "Find someone who's had time to cook."

"Okay, well, there was, uh…here—Sister Mary Eunice," Sam replied. "Uh, fed the poor, became Mother Superior at age 60."

Dean shook his head. "Sounds political. Power corrupts."

"Right," Sam sighed. "Um…listen to this—Sister Mary Constant, 83 years of quiet, humble nun-like goodness. What do you guys think?"

"Wow," Angela muttered. "I want to be more righteous just reading this."

"Exactly," Sam replied.

"Alright, well, I lay odds on her. Here we go." Dean walked over to a plaque bearing the name of Sister Mary Constant. "Well…let's bone this nun."

"Oh my God, Dean," Angela gave him a grossed-out look.

"Sorry." Dean shrugged. He smashed the coffin with a mallet.

~/~\~

Dean tossed a lit match into a bowl, causing flames to rise, then die down. Dean, Sam, and Angela looked around.

"Is he trying to make a grand entrance, or…?" Dean asked.

"I don't know…" Sam muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Son of a bitch. He's standing us up."

"Well, we summoned him." Sam frowned. "Doesn't he kind of have to—

"If Crowley wants to screw you, he'll screw you." Dean cut him off.

"Or…he can't come 'cause something went wrong," Angela suggested.

"Maybe," Dean muttered.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Sam took out his gun.

"Maybe it's good news," Dean suggested.

"When is it ever good news?" Angela sighed.

Sam looked through a hole in the door, then opened it to let Meg in.

"You deal with him." Meg sighed. "I can't anymore."

"You might want to be more specific," Angela replied.

Meg sighed. "I was laying low halfway across the world when emo boy pops up out of nowhere and zaps me right back here."

Angela frowned. "Why?"

"Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first." Meg sassed.

Angela rolled her eyes and walked towards the door.

~/~\~

Angela walked over to the vehicle that was parked in front of the cabin. The radio was playing quietly and Castiel sat in the front seat.

Angela leaned in the open passenger window. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel gave Angela a little wave. Angela sighed deeply.

"So, Cas, uh…what's the word?" she asked.

"Well, Angela, I've been thinking," Castiel replied. "Monkeys are so…clever, and they're sensible in that they leave the skins on the bananas that they eat. Is it really necessary to test cosmetics on them? I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Angela?"

Angela pursed her lips. "Not very. Hey, why don't you come inside and tell us what's going on?"

~/~\~

Angela had taken Castiel into the cabin. She stood next to Sam, her arms hugging his middle.

"Now, you understand I don't participate in aggressive activity." Castiel reminded as he picked up a bone and sniffed it. "Mm. Sister Mary Constant. Good choice."

"Why'd you got to Meg, Cas?" Dean asked.

"When I left, I wanted to observe the flowers—and fruit," Castiel replied. "Flowers come first, obviously. But I heard nothing from them."

Sam frowned. "You heard nothing from who?"

"The Garrison," Castiel answered.

"What happened to the Garrison?" Angela asked.

"Well, finally, the silence was deafening, so I went to look…to the home of the Prophet," Castiel replied. "You know, Leviathan can kill angels. There's a reason why Father locked them in Purgatory. They're the Piranha that would eat the whole aquarium. They're gone. The entire Garrison—dead. If there's anyone left at all, they're in hiding."

Dean walked towards Castiel. "Um, I'm sorry. If the angels are dead, where's Kevin?"

Castiel pursed his lips in thought. "I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys. But where would I put them all?"

"Hey!" Dean clapped his hands. "Focus. Is Kevin alive?"

"I don't want to fight," Castiel replied.

"No, I'm not…" Dean stopped himself. "We're worried." He said calmly.

"They took him. He's alive." Castiel replied. "I felt such responsibility, but it's in your hands now."

"Wait. Hold on a freakin' minute." Dean replied.

Meg looked at the bowl on the table. "Guys, what's that?"

"We called Crowley," Angela replied.

Meg looked at her. "You what?"

"Don't worry," Dean replied. "He never showed."

"What do you mean he never—

"Do you see him anywhere?" Dean asked. "He stood us up."

"Well, I'm sorry about that, but I'm outie," Meg replied. "He could still sh—

"Show up at any time," Crowley finished. "Hello, you three." He looked at the hunters. "Sorry, I'm late. This is an embarrassment of riches."

~/~\~

Crowley looked at Meg. "Stay, won't you. There's really nowhere to run."

Meg ran for the door, but Crowley appeared in front of her, blocking her exit.

"Don't even think about smoking out, pussycat." He added. "I've got eyes all over the place."

"Leave her be," Castiel demanded.

"Castiel," Crowley greeted. "When we last spoke, you—well, enslaved me. I'm confused. Why aren't you dead?"

"I…don't know," Castiel replied.

"Well, do you want to be? 'Cause I can help with that." Crowley narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, enough." Dean cut in.

"It's enough when I say." Crowley retorted. "I came here to help you. I find out you've been lying to me, harboring an angel, and not just any angel—the one angel I most want to crush between my teeth."

"Oh, so you can crush angels now, huh?" Meg sassed.

Crowley looked at Meg. "You bore me. You know that? You have no sense of poetry." He replied before turning back to Castiel. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well, I'm still, uh, honing my communication strategy," Castiel replied. "I haven't even been back to Heaven. I-I keep thinking there are no insects up there, but here we have…trillions. You know, they're making honey and silk and…miracles, really."

Crowley looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Um, preferring insects to angels, I guess." Castiel rummaged through his pockets. "Here. I can offer a token, if you like." He held up a plastic bag containing honey. "It's honey. I-I collected it myself."

Crowley and Dean exchanged a look. "You're off your rocker," Crowley told Castiel before looking at the three hunters. "He's off his rocker—is that it? Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" he raised his brows as he helped himself to some whiskey.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, did you come here to, uh, donkey-punch your old grudges or to help us end Dick? Pick a battle."

"Well, I'm vexed." Crowley shrugged. "I'd like to do both. But where's the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur? Text me when Sparkles here retrieves his marbles, I suppose. Meanwhile…" he took a vial of blood out of his jacket pocket. "A prezzie."

"Really?" Angela asked skeptically. "Just boxed-up and ready to go?"

"I'm a model of efficiency, darling," Crowley replied.

"Is that right?" Sam scoffed. "Then why were you late?"

"Dick had me in a devil trap." Crowley defended. "He's not an idiot. He knows what you three are after."

"So, what did he offer you?" Angela asked.

"A fair deal," Crowley replied. "In exchange for giving you three the wrong blood. It's demon, but is it mine?" he asked. "It's my blood. Real deal."

"And why should we trust you?" Dean questioned.

"Good God, don't. Never trust anyone." He replied. "A lesson I learned from my last business partner." He looked at Castiel.

"Alright. Give us the blood." Dean demanded.

"Oh, bonus. Meg, I'm gonna scoop you up, take you home, and roast you till you're jerky." Crowley smirked. Castiel started to move towards Crowley. "But, not…yet. Cas can have you for now." He added. "Hilariously, it seems he'd be upset at losing you. And these three need Cas to get Dick. Don't they, Cas?"

"Oh, I—I don't fight anymore," Castiel replied.

"Come on," Crowley scoffed slightly. "Given the particulars of your enemy, sadly, you're vital." He tossed the vial to Sam.

~/~\~

"Well, one thing's for sure," Dean sighed. "We only get one shot."

Sam held the vial of blood that Crowley gave them above a table holding a bowl of blood, other containers of blood, and candles.

"This thing don't reload," Dean added.

"You think Crowley's, uh…" Angela trailed off.

"Double-crossing us?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Angela replied.

Dean sighed. "You've got to figure who he wants dead more—us or Dick."

"Depends on what Dick offered. Here we go," Sam said as he poured the blood from the vial into the bowl. "Okay. Um…" he picked up the bow. "So, do we, uh…"

"Uh, there's no magic words—nothing." Dean shrugged. "We just…just go."

"Alright, then," Sam muttered as he poured the blood onto Sister Mary Constant's bone, which was in another bowl.

Sam, Dean, and Angela stared at the bow for a few moments, but nothing happened.

"Where's all the thunder and lightning?" Dean asked.

"Uh…maybe it worked?" Angela replied.

"Awesome." Dean rolled his eyes.

There was the familiar sound of angel wings as Castiel appeared with a hand on Dean's shoulder. Castiel held plates of sandwiches.

"So, none of this should cause you any ill effect," Castiel noted. "I went to a little farm in Normandy for the wheat and the lettuce and tomato—and I thoroughly examined and comforted the pig before I…slaughtered it for the ham. Here," he held a plate out to Dean. "You need your strength."

Dean took the plate. "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel held two plates out to Sam and Angela. Angela took her plate, but Sam didn't take his.

"And Cas, why was Crowley so certain that you need to come with us?" Sam asked.

"Crowley's wrong. I'll be waiting right here." Castiel assured. "But please—accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela pulled up outside the Sucrocorp building. Sam was typing on his laptop.

"You got it yet?" Dean asked.

"Here we go," Sam replied, pulling up the security footage.

"Thank you, Charlie, wherever you are," Angela muttered.

"Got you, Dick," Dean smirked.

"Yeah, that's, us, the second floor," Sam replied as the screen changed to footage of Dick alone at his desk. Sam frowned. "And—and then—what's that?"

Dean frowned. "What the hell? Is that Dick?"

The laptop screen switched to show Dick walking along a hallway.

"And that's Dick." Angela frowned deeply.

"Son of a bitch," Dean complained.

~/~\~

"Cycle through again," Dean instructed.

Sam frowned as a truck pulled up across the street. He took out his binoculars and his frown deepened when he saw the maid get out.

"That's the maid from the motel."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What motel?"

Sam watched as the maid walked towards the Sucrocorp building. "Oh, no." Sam groaned. "Oh, Bobby, what are you doing?"

"Wait." Dean stopped him. "Are you saying that Bobby—

Angela pursed her lips. "You guys stay here." She instructed.

Sam frowned at Angela. "Babe, you can't be serious."

"I'm not leaving room for discussion, Sam," Angela replied sternly. "You guys got the weapon, and—and eyes on Dick, plural. I'll take care of Bobby." She added. Angela pecked Sam on the lips before she got out of the car.

"Angie! Hey!" Dean yelled after her.

"Stay safe, boys. Love you, Sammy." Angela replied before she ran after the maid.

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Angela was already gone. "Dammit," Sam sighed.


	47. Survival of the Fittest Part 2

The maid walked around the back of the building. Angela appeared in front of her.

"Bobby?" she asked. "I know you're in there. Listen to me. There are cameras everywhere!" she pointed to a security camera. "There's one right there. Stop, okay? You're gonna get her killed."

The maid pushed Angela and she fell backward onto the ground.

"Bobby! Dammit!" Angela scrambled to her feet. "How are you gonna kill Dick, huh? You can't!"

The maid took out a large knife. "Good enough for me," she snarled. The maid slashed at Angela with the knife.

Angela glanced up at the security camera, grabbed the maid, and ducked behind a parked vehicle. "No!" Angela yelled. "I'm not letting you go."

"Get out of here, Angie," the maid glared.

"No," Angela replied firmly.

The maid slammed Angela against the vehicle, causing Angela to grunt in pain. The maid gripped her by the throat, choking her. The maid's face contorted with the effort of strangling Angela.

"Bobby, stop," Angela choked out. "Stop."

Bobby saw his reflection in the vehicle's window. "No!" he yelled.

The maid let Angela go. Bobby left her body and disappeared, causing the maid to fall to the ground. Angela gasped for a moment, trying to catch her breath before she picked the maid up.

~/~\~

Dean was sitting with his hands clasped, looking at the flask. Sam was inspecting the bruises that were forming on Angela's neck as she talked on the phone.

"Okay, thanks," Angela said before she hung up. "She's fine. Checking out of the hospital tonight."

"Well, that's positive," Castiel replied, holding out a plate containing a sandwich to Angela.

Sam frowned at the forming bruises on Angela's throat. "Bobby did this to you?"

Angela gently swatted Sam's hands away. "It wasn't really him." She reasoned. "Sammy, I'm fine. I promise."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked worriedly.

"I'm positive, Sammy," Angela replied, pecking him on the lips.

Meg leaned against the wall drinking a beer. "Tell me again why you turned tail for some maid," she chimed in. "You were _right_ there."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Meg."

"Because Dick made more Dicks," Angela replied. "He must've kept a chunk of the original Dick Roman somewhere. Uh, they'd all have to touch it."

Castiel was drying dishes. Dean's brows furrowed.

"Hey, shifty, what's your problem?" Dean asked.

Castiel paused for a moment. "Do we need a cat? Doesn't this place feel one species short?"

Dean sighed deeply. "You got anything on the topic of Dicks? Crowley was pretty sure that you could help."

"I can't help," Castiel replied. "You understand? I can't. I destroyed…everything, and I will destroy everything again. Can we please just leave it at that?"

"No." Dean got up. "No, we can't."

"Dean…" Sam warned.

"We can't leave it," Dean added, ignoring Sam. "You let these friggin' things in. So, you don't get to make a sandwich. You don't get a damned cat. Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas! Clean up your mess!"

Castiel put down the dish he was holding and walked over to Dean. "You know…we should play Twister."

Sam, Dean, and Angela looked at each other. Castiel disappeared.

"Nice," Meg commented. "You scared off the Empire's only hope."

"Meaning?" Dean asked.

"It occurs to you every one of those things was in Cas?" Meg asked. "He knows them. He can see past the meat suit."

"So, he'll be able to spot the real…fake Dick Roman," Sam replied.

"Gold star, sugarpants," Meg replied. "Too bad he's Fruit Loops. You might've had a chance."

Dean heard a noise behind him and turned. Castiel was playing Twister on the floor.

~/~\~

Dean was looking at footage from the Sucrocorp office on the laptop. "There's no real point in looking for a tell. They all downloaded Dick's brain. They've all got the same tells."

"Alright, then maybe the question is, what would the real Dick be doing?" Sam sighed.

Suddenly, Bobby appeared. "Is that the best you can do? Idjits."

"Bobby," Angela's eyes widened. "We didn't know if you'd, uh—

"Well, you should've. You got the flask." Bobby replied. "Dumb. You should've burned it right off."

"Bobby—

"I'm still jonesing to go back…grab some poor bastard, kamikaze 'em going after Dick," Bobby admitted. "It's bad."

The laptop played a news interview with Dick Roman.

 _"America is for go-getters."_ Dick's voice rang through the speakers. _"Folks who get off their butts and make it happen."_

Dean closed the laptop.

"Let's be real," Bobby looked at Angela. "I damn near killed you. And that woman."

Angela shook her head. "It wasn't your fault, Bobby—not really."

"Right." Bobby scoffed slightly. "That's just what ghosts turn into. I really bet the farm I could outsmart that."

"So, what's it feel like?" Dean asked after a pause.

Bobby raised his brows. "What? Going vengeful?" he asked. "It's an itch you can't scratch out. Look…I'm done. Go get Dick. But don't do it 'cause you think it'll scratch the itch. Do it 'cause it's the job. And when it's your time…go."

Sam, Dean, and Angela looked sadly at Bobby.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela shared a long look with Bobby.

Bobby looked at Sam and Angela. "I never told you two…congrats on finally getting hitched." He smiled slightly. "Here's to…running into you three on the other side. Only…not too soon. Alright?"

Dean tossed the flask onto the burning coals. It slowly started to melt. The light of Bobby burning up reflected on Sam, Dean, and Angela's faces. The flask continued to melt and the light went out. Dean, Sam, and Angela looked sadly at each other. Castiel watched from the stairs.

~/~\~

Castiel was playing Uno at the table when Dean walked over to him.

"Cas, I need a wingman."

"Dean…" Castiel sighed.

"You don't want to jump into the jaws of death, that's…fine," Dean replied. "How about we run a little errand?"

~/~\~

Inside the barn, there was a vehicle covered with a tarp. There was a flutter of angel wings and Dean and Castiel were standing near the covered vehicle.

"Thanks for the lift," Dean noted.

"My pleasure," Castiel replied as Dean walked towards the vehicle. "Dean…"

Dean turned back to Castiel. "Cas, we've been over it. I get it—you can't help."

"If we attack Dick and fail, then you, Angela, and Sam die heroically, correct?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I guess."

"And at best, I die trying to fix my own stupid mistake," Castiel replied. "Or…I don't die—I'm brought back again. I see now. It's a punishment resurrection. It's worse every time."

"I'm sorry," Dean cut in. "Uh, we're talking about God crap, right?"

"I'm not good luck, Dean," Castiel replied.

"Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench…Sorry, but I'd rather have you, cursed or not." Dean explained. "And anyway, nut up, alright? We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you?" he raised his brows. Dean frowned as Castiel just stared at him. "What?"

"Well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness," Castiel noted.

"Yeah, well, I'm probably gonna die tomorrow, so…"

"Well, I'll go with you," Castiel replied. "And I'll do my best."

Dean smiled slightly and nodded. "Thanks."

"So…can I ask the plan?" Castiel asked, brows furrowed.

"Well, according to Crowley, Dick knows we're coming," Dean replied. "So, we're gonna announce ourselves—big."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela entered the building through a door marked 'Exit'.

~/~\~

Dean and Castiel looked around a corner of the building and then walked down a hallway.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela came out of Room 427 and walked down the hallway.

~/~\~

Dean looked around a corner at Dick sitting at the head of the boardroom table. He motioned for Castiel, who was behind him, to look. Castiel did so and shook his head.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela busted open a closed office door. Kevin was bound to a chair and gagged.

"Kevin," Angela whispered. "Hey, hon. We gotta hustle, okay?"

Sam cut Kevin free and Kevin removed the tape over his mouth.

"Wait," Kevin stopped them. "We can't leave yet."

"Uh, yeah, we can," Sam replied. "It's okay. We got to go."

"You don't understand," Kevin stressed. "Dick's got creamer in his lab. He's gonna kill all the skinny people."

"Wait," Sam frowned. "What? Slow down."

"We have to blow up the lab. Please." Kevin stared up at Sam.

Sam looked at Angela and sighed before turning back to Kevin. "Yeah, fine. Let's go."

~/~\~

Dick took a few steps across the room and drank the creamer. There was a noise behind him and he turned. One of the Leviathans was lying decapitated on the floor. Dean and Castiel stood over him. Castiel was carrying a bottle of Power Clean and Dean a machete.

"Little abrupt…but okay," Dick noted as Dean sheathed the machete. "Castiel. Good to see you again. Thanks for the ride into paradise."

Dean took out a bloodstained bone that was sharpened to a point at one end.

"And good on you!" Dick exclaimed. "Pulling that together—A-plus."

"Oh, you don't think this'll work, do you? You trust that demon?" Dean asked.

Dick smirked. "You sure I'm even me, Dean?"

"No. But he is." Dean replied, causing Dick to look at Castiel. "See, here's the thing when dealing with Crowley—he will always find a way to bone you."

"This meeting's over," Dick replied.

Castiel moved towards Dick, but Dick grabbed him and flung him into a wall. Dean plunged the bone into Dick's chest. Dick gasped, but then pulled the bone out and snapped it in two.

"Did you really think that you could trump me?" Dick glared.

"Honestly?" Dean took out another bone. "No."

Castiel pulled Dick's head back. Dean plunged the bone sideways through Dick's neck. Dick yelled. Sam, Angela, and Kevin ran into the room. Dick continued to yell and gurgle.

"Figured we'd have to catch you off guard," Dean added.

Dick's face transformed into an enormous mouth with long pointed teeth and a protruding tongue. He roared briefly before his face returned to normal. He grunted and black goo started to run from his nose. Waves of energy began to pulsate from his body in time with a loud, accelerating heartbeat. The energy then appeared to concentrate back in his body. Sam covered Angela and Kevin as Dick exploded in black goo.

~/~\~

Sam was still sheltering Angela and Kevin. He straightened up and looked around the room, which was splattered with black goo.

"We should go," Kevin commented.

"What the hell?" Sam breathed.

"More chompers any second, guys," Kevin stressed.

"Not to worry," Crowley said suddenly. "I have a small army of demons outside. Cut off the head, and the body will flounder, after all. Think if you'd had just one king since before the first sunrise. You'd be in a kerfuffle, too."

"Which is exactly what you wanted." Angela realized.

"So did you," Crowley replied. "Without a master plan, the Levis are just another monster. Hard to stomp, sure, but you love a challenge. Your job is to keep them from organizing."

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"That bone…has a bit of a kick," Crowley replied. "God weapons often do. They should put a warning on the box."

"Where are they, Crowley?!" Angela glared.

"Can't help you, Bambi," Crowley replied, snapping his fingers.

Two demons appeared on either side of Kevin.

"Sorry," Crowley shrugged. "Prophet's mine." He added, snapping his fingers again, causing Kevin and the demons to disappear. "You got what you wanted—Dick's dead, saved the world. So, I want one little prophet. Wish I could help. You certainly got a lot on your plate right now."

Crowley snapped his fingers again. Sam pulled Angela close to him as they looked around the empty room in distress.

~/~\~

Dean was lying on the ground, eyes closed.

"Wake up," Castiel said, causing Dean's eyes to open. "We need to get out of here."

Dean stood up and frowned. "Where are we?"

"You don't know?" Castiel frowned.

"Last I remember, we ganked Dick." Dean shrugged.

"And where would he go in death?" Castiel raised his brows.

"Wait," Dean frowned. "Are you telling me…?"

"Every soul here is a monster." Castiel nodded. "This is where they come to prey upon each other for all eternity."

"We're in Purgatory? How do we get out?" Dean asked.

"I'm afraid we're much more likely to be ripped to shreds," Castiel replied.

Dean turned and saw two large creatures with red eyes watching him. "Cas, I think we better…"

Castiel had disappeared.

"Cas?" Dean frowned.

Dean looked around the dark, desolate forest and heard the rustling of watching monsters.


End file.
